Birds of a Feather
by Hot4Gerry
Summary: Erik had come to accept that his life would always be one lead in solitude. He had managed to piece his heart back together after Christine’s departure. Now when his life had some peace his little songbird had come back, not to him as a lover.Erik/OCOW
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Erik had come to accept that his life would always be one lead in solitude. He had managed to piece his heart back together after Christine's departure. Now when his life had some peace his little songbird had come back, not to him as a lover but to ask a favor. **

**Birds of a Feather**

**Chapter One**

**Mistress of Murder**

Beatrice hunkered down in the hall closet under the stairway. Perhaps if luck were with her he would not find her. Her face along with every other part of her body felt ill-used. She ran her hand over the swelling of her eye and cheek. She felt an all too familiar stickiness come away with her fingers.

From past experience Beatrice knew she would be a mass of bruises, cuts and sore muscles by morning. The staff would look the other way as she hobbled to the breakfast table. At least that would be how her morning started if she could indeed still walk the next morning.

Many was the time she had not been able to move from whatever place Lawrence left her once he tired himself out hitting her with his fist or whatever weapon came to hand.

_Dear God how much longer can I endure this? Will he not one day kill me when his rage went beyond his control?_ Not that he made any effort to curtail the violence he used to cow Beatrice. So far he had been able to stop his violence before he went too far.

It had not always been like this. In the beginning when Raoul and her father pressured her into marrying this charming young English gentleman she had been flattered by his interest. Raoul had gone to school with Lawrence and had spoken highly of him. She had thought at last things would work out for her.

With no dowry to speak of but a mortgaged to the hilt estate that would be hers upon her father's passing, Beatrice had very few men coming to court her. The estate had been buried under a heavy debt for years and growing deeper with each subsequent year. Fast approaching the age where the opportunity of marriage would pass her by, Armand Montclair urged his daughter to marry with all due haste.

Twenty and three was long in the tooth by most standards. If wealth or family did not stand by a woman getting on in age she had little choice other than to marry or tie herself to servitude.

Armand had borrowed from Raoul for years to maintain the estate. Raoul being the good soul he was had never made any demands for repayment but it had become a source of taunting barbs from ladies during afternoon teas or get-togethers where Beatrice had to sit and listen to every young debutante tout on and on about their respective beaus. All of Beatrice's supposed close friends had come out when Beatrice had all those years ago. All were married or affianced leaving poor Beatrice the target for anyone who had a trying day to alleviate their stress.

They were sure to let Beatrice know almost to the penny the worth of their intended. When asked what prospect she had Beatrice used her father's ill health as an excuse not to have married. Everyone knew the truth of the matter but let her get by with the little subterfuge unless they felt the need for sport. It gave them something to gossip about later when Beatrice would not be present in any case.

In the beginning Lawrence had only had moments when he shouted at her while calling her vile names. He always came round the next morning with flowers and candy or some trinket.

His excuse for his anger had been problems with the family business. That had progressed to shoving then slapping. He was always so sorry and apologetic the very next day. All would be well for a short time until the next thing did not go as Lawrence thought it should.

He had promised a gullible Beatrice that he would curb his temper. He even kept his promise for the remainder of their courtship. Only later had Beatrice learned of the prostitutes who took the brunt of Lawrence's anger in her stead.

Raoul had brought Christine back home last Christmas.

Beatrice had met and liked the very young girl. She had looked so lovely and seemed quite innocent for a woman who lived and worked in the opera house. Lawrence had spoken ill of her behind Raoul's back. He all but intimated the girl to be a whore. Beatrice earned a good set down from Lawrence when she defended Christine.

Having learned Lawrence had faulty judgment Beatrice would not think unkindly of Christine. When all the trouble had begun to seem dangerous for Christine Raoul had gone to Paris to stay.

Christine had spoken to Beatrice about some man who taught her to sing from the shadows. She called him her Angel of Music. Beatrice thought Christine to be a little naïve and someone had been pulling the wool over her eyes.

Raoul had confirmed the man had indeed spoken and sung to Christine from behind the walls of the opera house from the first night she had cried in the chapel for her dead father.

When Raoul enlightened Beatrice about the man who was known as the Opera Ghost and Phantom of the Opera she began to understand Christine's slightly confused story of the man who taught her to sing.

Beatrice thought it a crime for some man to use a little girls dying father's promise to trick her into thinking him some heavenly angel. As far as Beatrice was concerned this man could fall into a hole in hell with Lawrence and be in good company.

After Christine's kidnapping and consequent rescue Raoul had come home only long enough to settle a few financial matters then he had whisked Christine away for a quick marriage.

Raoul had not had time to arrange funds to be transferred for Armand. In a panic he had pressured Beatrice to marry Lawrence with all due haste.

A cheap ceremony later, Beatrice found herself married to one of the cruelest men she had ever met. Her father had cowardly left her to fend for herself as he could not stand the guilt that ate at him when he learned of Lawrence's beastly behavior. He left Beatrice with the financial burden as well.

After the marriage Lawrence let his true colors show. The violence escalated over time. Beatrice would have gone to Raoul but he had enough on his plate with that man playing at being a phantom or ghost. Besides he and Christine had left to marry in Italy and spend some time getting over the trauma caused by Christine's maniac angel.

Raoul's absence from his estate left Beatrice no place to go when Lawrence seemed headed for one of his fits.

The debtors began to make demands for payment. Lawrence refused to spend so much as a franc on her home. When she begged for just enough to hold off the creditors until she could sell off some of her possessions, Lawrence had laughed and taunted that she owned nothing. Every last piece of furniture, dish or silver candle stick belonged to him upon their marriage.

Beatrice had taken quite a beating that night as she protested him having any say in the matter of her property. That had been the first of many over the ensuing months.

Beatrice had despaired of ever having a child. Lawrence berated her for being unable to carry a child to term. She had lost five little angels. The toll of each loss etched lines of despair upon Beatrice giving her the appearance of a much older woman, a fact Lawrence never ceased to point out.

The toll on Beatrice's body, physically as well as emotionally were beginning to affect her health. When she complained about meeting Lawrence's intimate demands she earned herself punishment. When she asked him to take precautions so she had time to heal he called her useless as a woman. Then he would proceed to claim his husbandly rights in the cruelest way possible.

Every time she found herself with child Beatrice would try to avoid Lawrence as much as possible. She never knew what little thing would set him off. At times she thought he need not have a reason to unleash the monster in him. She had known of men who were cruel but had never imagined the level of evil a man could reach.

She thought if she could avoid him until the child had been far enough along to withstand the violence she might have a chance of delivering a healthy child.

If ever that would happen Beatrice swore she would leave Lawrence and never come back. Lawrence never gave her the chance to test her resolve as his violence toward her took away her unborn children shortly after being planted in her womb.

Cowering now in the closet Beatrice continued to pray she could stay hidden until Lawrence regained his senses. If she could stay hidden for a few hours he usually calmed down without the need to excise his demons on her flesh. He would expend his angry energy on the house and furnishings.

Hearing footsteps and Lawrence shouting threats of what he would do once he found her sent shivers of fear coursing through Beatrice. She knew he made no idle threats.

Closing her eyes tightly she began to pray in earnest when the footsteps stopped just outside the closet door. Holding her breath she waited for the inevitable.

The door wrenched open crashing back against the wall from the force Lawrence used to open the door as he raged at the cowering woman.

"Here you are you whore. You should have answered me you bitch. I'll damn well knock obedience into you. You are nothing, do you hear, nothing?"

Lawrence had yanked Beatrice from the closet floor by a fistful of her hair. He shook her so hard she felt surely he would pull her head from her shoulders. As it was she felt strands of her hair give way.

Throwing her to the floor Lawrence towered over Beatrice. She began to crawl away from him hoping to get far enough away so she might stand and run.

Lawrence grabbed her ankle pulling her back toward him so hard she heard a snap. If her ankle had not been broken surely it was badly sprained. He may even have torn her muscle.

"Please Lawrence, please. Don't do this. Let's go to the bedroom. I will do all those things you like for me to do. Please don't hurt me any more. Please I beg of you."

He began to mock her, "Oh please Lawrence don't hurt me. Let me show you I can please you. Please me? My dear you haven't pleased me since the day I met you. That father of yours was a real piece of work.

Did you know he bribed me to marry you? He promised me more once the deed was done. I can see by your pitiful doubting face you had no knowledge just how little he thought of you."

Grabbing her painfully once more he shook her as he drew his face close to her own to spit in her face then angrily shout, "You whore. You should have thought about pleasing me before angering me. Now you'll pay for your ignorance."

As Lawrence let her go to stand above her Beatrice frantically looked around for something she might use as a weapon to render him unconscious or at least disable him for a short time while she got away.

Lawrence began to unbuckle his belt. Beatrice dreaded the times he used his belt on her. After the beating he would poor salt into the wound to cauterize it for her safety. Personally Beatrice thought he just liked the extra pain he inflicted.

While Lawrence was occupied undoing his belt Beatrice crawled to the fireplace grabbing the poker. Lumbering to her feet with difficulty Beatrice stood with the poker at the ready should Lawrence approach.

She knew without doubt he would. If her ankle was not injured she would have run out into the darkness so she might hide. Knowing it would not hold under her if she ran Beatrice did the only thing she could. She waited for Lawrence to come for her.

Once his belt was free Lawrence looked up then began to laugh and taunt Beatrice.

"You stupid bitch. You think you can take me down with that? I swear Beatrice you are one of the most lacking of women. You have no looks to speak of, your intelligence is questionable. Add your barren state and your some total is less than nothing.

I would have faired better with one of those whores that walk the Paris streets. Perhaps I'll take you to join them so you might peddle your wares. Might earn me a few francs. You'd need to learn a thing or two but I'm sure after a few customers you'd learn how to please a man. Lord knows you always left me wanting."

Lawrence had been advancing on Beatrice as he spoke. When he said the last word he lunged forward thinking he had lulled Beatrice into one of her usual malleable states after he had trodden over her feelings as well as nearly beaten her senseless.

He did not really expect her to have the courage to use any weapon against him. His arrogance would be his undoing as Beatrice had been driven into a corner like a wild wounded animal.

She did not see her husband before her. All she comprehended was that death took one step at a time closer to her. Closing her eyes Beatrice drew back her arm then swung it around.

When the poker connected with Lawrence's head Beatrice felt the jolt all the way to her shoulder blades. The sickening crack of bones breaking could clearly be heard in the near silent room where death stalked its prey.

Hearing the thud as Lawrence hit the floor, she let out a cry then sank to the floor in a heap. She did not know how long she lay upon the floor dazed.

Stirring she used her hands to push up from the floor. Looking toward the body lying prone just a few feet away from her Beatrice nearly lost the contents of her stomach to see so much blood pooling on the floor.

Crawling closer Beatrice grabbed an ankle to use as leverage to pull herself to a position where she could look at Lawrence more closely. She must ascertain if he was dead or merely unconscious. She felt certain death claimed him.

She did not know if she should feel sorrow for having taken a life or elation for having freed herself from the monster her husband had become or perhaps had always been but merely had been in hiding until he had her in his grasp.

Shaking badly Beatrice laid her hand upon his chest. She felt no movement. No breaths in and out. Laying her head upon his chest she could hear no rhythmic thump of a heartbeat.

Poking at him with her finger garnered no response. She now felt certain life had left him. Drawing her knees up Beatrice wrapped her arms around her up drawn legs. Tiredly she lay her head upon her knees letting the full knowledge of what she had done sink in.

She would surely hang for this or be sent to the guillotine. She had heard of women who had committed similar crimes but had drawn a lenient judge. They had been sent to either prison or an asylum for the insane. She would rather die. She had heard far too many stories about those places.

Her husband being of a prominent family, Beatrice could expect no leniency. Men were allowed to _correct_ a wife's bad behavior. Prison would not suit Beatrice anyway. The last six months had been prison enough for her.

Lawrence had done her a favor by sending the servants away. That was his usual practice when he wanted to have free reign in the house to chase Beatrice about beating her as they went from room to room.

As she looked into the dead face of her cruel husband Beatrice began to make plans. She would do her best to save herself but all would depend on how soon Raoul returned. She could only hope and pray he returned soon. He would no doubt give her shelter and aid her in overcoming this new obstacle in her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here it is Friday and this is the promised chapter. It is hard for me not to post more than once a week which is why I sometimes have two stories at once. If you would prefer I can hold off on this one and only post TOAA. Let me know what you want. Both in trickles or one story two chapters per week. **

**Chapter Two**

**Bargaining With the Angel in Hell**

Beatrice had struggled to pull Lawrence to the basement door. Once there she tugged him to the top of the steps. A little nudge with her foot and he fell down the fifteen steps to the dirt floor. If she could have dug a hole she would have planted him in it. The ground had been much too hard for her to get the shovel to even penetrate the soil. Later she would hate the callous way she had treated his remains even if he deserved it.

Going through the house she cleared away all the evidence of the night's violence. She moved about as if looking at herself from a distance. She couldn't say she felt much at this moment. Her mind told her what needed to be done and her body went along doing what she must. At any moment she expected Lawrence to come raging up from the basement to punish her for daring to do such things to him.

Beatrice suddenly stopped as she remembered Lawrence would have need of transportation if her story was to be he had gone away. Rarely did he use the carriage unless he planned to be away more than a couple of days and his belongings would not fit in his small case. Having packed the small case that would mean he would be riding his horse.

She couldn't let anyone see the animal still safely inside his stall. Heading outdoors once again, Beatrice went to the stable. Satan stood in his stall quietly only stirring as he heard the door creak open. Lawrence had named the animal appropriatly. A more devilish animal she had never come across. He barely even tolerated Lawrence's hands on him.

Cautiously she opened the stall door. Leaving it wide open she waved her hands about from the safety behind the opened stall door. Rearing wildy Satan shrilled out his dislike of being disturbed. Coming down again he only waited a couple of seconds before going through the opening to freedom. Once he cleared the stable's outer doors his black body had been lost in the night.

The last time he had gotten out of his pasture he had nearly ran clear to Paris before Lawrence caught up with him. If luck stayed with her Satan would run all the way to hell to join his master. She needn't worry about anyone getting close to him. He would as soon stomp anyone as look at them. The animal had been mean to the bone just as his master had been.

Now all that remained to get through was explanations to the servants. Once the servants returned and saw her battered body they would know what had happened. It was not uncommon for Lawrence to spend a few days away after one of his tirades. Everyone knew he would seek out one of his usual whores. The cycle seemed to remain the same. He would abuse her horribly then seek sexual gratification elsewhere.

All she need do is let them think he had gone away. She even packed a few suits and his personal items he would need for a few days away. This all joined Lawrence in the basement. Not being able to face seeing his lifeless body once more she tossed his case to the basement floor. If anything could bring Lawrence back it would have been knowing Beatrice mistreated his personal belongings.

Beatrice took the key from the hook beside the basement. Pocketing the key she took another tour around the house to make certain all telltale evidence had been removed.

Going to bed that night Beatrice begged God's forgiveness for taking a life. Any life was precious even such a man as Lawrence had been. Lawrence had made her life on earth a living hell she prayed he had not condemned her to an eternity in hell by forcing her into a violent act.

Little rest came to Beatrice as the night's events would not leave her head for a moment. Over and over the poker bashed Lawrence in the side of the head. In her imaginings she could clearly see the curved portion of the metal break through the tender flesh at his temple.

Feeling sick Beatrice had to leave her bed several times. Having never slept the night through with Lawrence made it easier to lie in her own bed as he had rarely sought her out during the night at least not in her own bed.

When the first light of day began to trickle into her bedroom Beatrice dragged herself into the bath. Soaking her poor swollen ankle gave her more time before she must face the staff.

She now could be grateful Lawrence was one of those men who preferred to dress themselves as well as pack their own cases when taking a trip. For once his obsessive behavior would benefit her. He disliked anyone to touch his personal belongings. He even mistrusted anyone to carry his case from the house to the carriage. Most of the time he road his horse with his small case strapped to the pomel of his saddle.

Beatrice had never been one to lie convincingly. Today she would need to call upon some hitherto unknown skill to convince the staff Lawrence had gone away for a while. She would need to come up with some excuse as to why the basement door remained locked and the key had gone missing.

Knowing how eccentric Lawrence could be at times all she need do is tell them Lawrence forbid anyone down in the basement until further notification.

Luckily the root cellar and smoke house held all the foodstuff not in the house pantry. Nothing of value went in the basement other than the area Lawrence had set aside and had made into a wine cellar. Lawrence considered himself to be a bit of a connoisseur of fine wines. Beatrice just thought him to be pretentious with no real idea of what passed for true value in anything.

Facing the servants one by one as the day wore on began to pick at Beatrice's nerves. By nightfall she was a wreck. If one person had pressured her as to where Lawrence really was no doubt she would have fallen to her knees and confessed.

After that first day things seemed to ease until the ghastly smell began to seep under the basement door. After everyone had gone to bed, Beatrice made her way to the garden shed. Lime kept potatoes from growing eyes and rotting would it not also work on flesh?

The very idea of going down to where Lawrence lay silently decomposing sickened her. He haunted her enough in her dreams now he would be in her waking moments as well. Only now she would have an all too graphic picture in her head.

Having put on the gardeners gloves the task of hauling the sack of lime across the yard to the outside door of the basement began. An arduous task it was too.

The sack weighed as much as a toddler might Beatrice imagined. Sweating and tugging she managed to drag the sack to the double doors built into the side of the house. The doors were horizontal and heavy. The key to the rusty lock took a bit of jiggling to click the tumblers open.

Dragging the sack down the stairs was much easier than dragging it across the yard. Beatrice had used a kerchief to cover her nose and mouth as the stench would be unbearable.

She did not bother lighting a lamp. She had all the light she needed from the moonlight filtering down the stairs to the basement. After all she had no wish to see her husband in such a condition.

Beatrice tried not to look too long at Lawrence's face. The little she had seen would be forever impri

nted in her memory. Again she wondered where she had drawn the strength to do such a horrible thing to another human being. Preservation of life she supposed had to be the strongest of humanities emotions next to love and hatred.

Having emptied the contents of the sack Beatrice could only hope the lime did the job. She would be going to Raoul's to stay until he returned. The staff would not mind as she had been a welcome visitor in the past. She had often run to the safety of Raoul's home when Lawrence had been in one of his moods. Those few times of escape had been bliss.

She never told Raoul why she had come without Lawrence and in the latter months he had been far to occupied with Christine and her ghostly phantom.

Beatrice wished she had her own phantom at this moment to protect her. If her misdeed should be discovered before Raoul returned the gendarmes would surely come looking for her.

Leaving word with her servants to tell Lawrence upon his return that she would be staying with Monsieur and Madame de Chagny for a time to keep Madame company whilst Raoul attended to his neglected business.

The servant's did not act as if anything were amiss. They well knew of the strange goings on in the household. What was one more bit of strange behavior in a long list of them?

Raoul's servants being well trained asked no questions. They made her usual room ready for her. Now the waiting game would truly begin. Day after day Beatrice would watch the drive and check the mail for any news from Raoul.

After two weeks Beatrice was about ready to climb the walls and turn herself in. Her guilt ate at her constantly. Fear followed her to bed then was there to greet her as soon as she opened her eyes from a fitful sleep.

Finally word arrived that Raoul would be coming home in two days time. That would give the servants plenty of time to freshen the rooms.

It also gave Beatrice two more days to worry if Raoul would help her or even if he could give her any aid. He had another person to be responsible for now.

His parents were off somewhere seeing the world on their yacht. Raoul's father had left him in charge of things many years ago only attending business on the peripheral edge to give Raoul advice. Once Raoul had come of majority in age his father had signed papers giving him full control.

The two days seemed extremely long to Beatrice. The servants began to wonder if that husband of hers had finally knocked her about once too often leaving her a bit light in the head as she seemed half dazed most of the time.

When Beatrice saw the carriage rolling down the drive she could not wait for it to stop and let Raoul and Christine out. She ran out the door to stand jumping up and down nervously on her toes while clasping her hands. That nervous habit from her childhood had returned in recent months.

The moment Raoul stepped down Beatrice threw herself against his chest mumbling a confession into the front of his vest. The stunned young man looked about for her husband. Not understanding what had her so upset, Raoul wrapped his arms around his cousin shushing her as he spoke to her as one would a weeping child.

Once she had control of her emotions, Beatrice asked if they might go into the house, perhaps his study as she had something important to speak to relay to him.

Raoul had been telling Christine to go on to their rooms so she could rest after their long journey. Beatrice begged her to stay as what she must tell them concerned them both. Christine and Raoul's first thought had been Erik had come to the estate looking for Christine.

Once Raoul had assured himself that Erik had not been anywhere near his home, at least not so anyone knew, he ushered Christine and his cousin into his study.

He sat Christine in a comfortable padded chair. The matching one remained empty as Raoul took the chair behind his desk and Beatrice seemed too jittery to sit still. He always thought better when seated behind this desk that had been used by de Chagny men for at least a century and a half.

He watched in concern as Beatrice continued to pace about for a few minutes before she dropped heavily into the second chair. Her face had fading bruising. Only now did it begin to come to him that in recent months she had paid him visits with similar bruising. He had been too involved in what had been going on in Paris to take much notice. He accepted her excuses for what happened as the truth.

"I've done it Raoul. I've finally done it. I thought about it many times over the last few months but never believed I'd have the courage. I had no where else to go. If…if you cannot help me I will understand and leave immediately."

Raoul at this point only had more confusion clouding his mind as Beatrice gave an explanation that had not really explained anything.

"Beatrice what is all this about? What exactly have you done?" Raoul's question seemed to open the floodgates as Beatrice began to cry in earnest.

Christine went quickly to Raoul's cousin to place her arm across her shoulder as Christine separated one hand from the two wrestling in Beatrice's lap. Christine motioned with her head for Raoul to leave them. She mouthed to him that they would be fine.

Once Raoul had left Christine knelt down in front of Beatrice then wiped her face with a handkerchief. Christine spoke calmly trying to reassure her companion that she was safe and nothing would harm her.

Little by little Christine got the whole horrid story from the now placid woman. Once she had begun to speak everything came out in a rush astounding Christine as well as horrifying her.

Poor Beatrice had been put through hell the last six months. As a woman who had recently gone through her own hell, Christine could sympathize. Erik had never harmed her, not really. He had shouted often when she made a mistake while singing one of his many compositions. He had only shoved her once. Then he only did it after she had removed his mask.

Everything he had done later had been misguided affections ruling him. Never having felt so much for anyone Christine felt her Angel had lost sight of all that had been good in his life.

In truth little pleasure had been given to him over his life. Perhaps that is why he had been so desperate to win her.

She did love him but not as he would wish. If not for Raoul perhaps in later years when she had matured she could have withstood Erik's powerful personality. As it was he frightened her most of the time.

He was so volatile. His shouts and curses would always bring her to tears when anything went wrong during a lesson. He knew no other way than anger to express his displeasure. Anger had been what others gave to him for not being pleasant of face, either that or gasps of horror, sometimes thrown rocks in his cage would hit that small child held against his will.

Over the last months between Raoul and Madame Giry, Christine had learned more of her tutor's life, if one could call the pitiful existence he lived a life.

It broke her heart to think of him still living in that tomb underneath the opera house. It had been beautiful that first night he had taken her down there. When she learned he wished for her to live in that dank darkness with him Christine had panicked.

His threats toward Raoul caused her to pull even further away from her Angel. By the time the performance of Don Juan Triumphant was to be presented to all of Paris Christine had been ready to go along with whatever plan Raoul and the managers of L'Opéra Populaire suggested. It had grieved her to betray her Angel but for her sanity and Raoul's safety she had no choice.

In the end her Angel had not been able to bind her to him in that darkness that claimed him body and soul. His distorted vision of himself would never allow him to believe anyone could love him or look upon him with anything other than horror.

To convince him he was not a monster to be feared Christine had given him first one tentative kiss on his lips. When his tears flowed freely and his eyes filled with nothing but love for her, Christine gave him a kiss filled with all the passion he had awoken in her over the last few months they had been together. Even with all that had happened Christine still felt a pull toward him. He held more than just a piece of her heart. Her Angel would forever hold a part of her soul.

Christine had never thought she would ever see anyone so broken again in her lifetime. She had been wrong. Beatrice was a woman who had lived through hell now she ran from the burning flames as guilt overwhelmed her.

As best as she could Christine told Beatrice that she had only done what anyone would do to protect themselves. She then told her about the plan Raoul had formed with the managers and the gendarmes to catch or kill the man she now knew as Erik.

Guilt followed her every day for the part she played that night Erik had been exposed in a way sure to bring him to the brink of madness. Indeed he had gone a little mad in the end. Trying to burn down the opera house had not been the act of a sane man, only an insanely passionate one.

Asking if Beatrice would be alright for a while on her own, Christine left the study to go and find Raoul. He would know what to do.

Having found Raoul pacing in the garden Christine bade him to sit while she related the tale Beatrice had told her. Raoul felt as if he let his cousin down after hearing of her trials with Lawrence. Damn it Raoul had given the man a shining recommendation. He had encouraged the match.

Christine would not let Raoul continue to beat himself up over a man not deserving of one kind thought. Now was not the time to place blame. They must find a way to protect Beatrice. So far there had been no rumors or word of a body found in the Tolliver estate.

The gendarmes had not come knocking as of yet enquiring where they might find Raoul's cousin. Raoul began to try to form some solid plan to get Beatrice out of France.

He and Christine were going out of the country for an extended honeymoon. The first place the authorities would look would be Raoul's home or any vessel he owned.

Tickets for the train or a ship leaving any port of call would not be wise either. The best thing to do would be to find some place to hide his cousin until the search for her had given way to more important matters. The dissidence and violence in Paris would only be escalating with time. Soon it would not be safe to walk within Paris' walls.

Christine and Raoul had already made arrangements for Madame and Meg Giry to leave for England. They would be staying with Raoul's aunt in London until they could find employment and a residence to live. He had set up an account from which they could draw funds.

If it would not put Meg in danger Raoul would let Beatrice take Meg's place on that ship heading for the safety of England's shores.

Raoul looked at Christine only to see the faraway look in her eyes. Her forehead was furrowed deeply with a frown. She had that stubborn look forming on her mouth which did not bode well for him. Anytime she got that look it meant she would be cajoling him into doing something he did not wish to do but ended up doing it anyway.

"Raoul, I have an idea. Now before you say no hear me out. It is the perfect plan. No one would know where she was and I daresay very few people would dare look down there. Many have done so to their cost."

Raoul felt cold fingers of ice traveling down his back. He feared he understood all too well what place Christine thought to send his cousin.

"No Christine, I will not send her…" Christine interrupted him placing her hand beseechingly upon his as she spoke.

"Raoul he is probably gone. Some say he…he died in one of the tunnels that caved in. You know as well as I do it is the perfect place to hide. Did he not hide there for more than twenty years? Please put forth this idea to Beatrice and let her decide."

Raoul did not like it but he supposed as it was Beatrice's life they were planning on risking it should be up to her to accept or not.

Raoul took Christine's proffered hand in his own. Together they went to offer up this plan to Beatrice. It would be in her hands to accept or decline the offer.

If Christine's Angel still occupied the underground he may not be willing to share what he considered to be his alone. How does one bargain with an Angel in Hell?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Destiny's New Plan**

Beatrice sat in Raoul's study feeling drained. She cared little at the moment what happened to her. She would rest her fate in the hands of Raoul. She could trust his judgment. He had always been an honest and caring person. Not many people Beatrice had in her acquaintance could boast the same.

Turning her head quickly toward the clicking of the opening door Beatrice looked from one to the other. Christine had a confident, reassuring smile upon her face while Raoul looked less sure and more worried. He had deep furrows in his otherwise smooth skin. Dear Lord had her trouble begun to age him. She relaxed when the lines smoothed out when he began to speak.

"Beatrice we have an idea of where to send you. Mind you there would need to be a lot of investigating before I would let you spend one moment in that place. It holds no fond memories for me. I daresay Christine has a different view as she is somewhat more forgiving than I am."

"Whatever you have planned I am sure it will be fine. I can live anywhere. Do…do you think it would be better if I turn myself in? Perhaps…perhaps they would understand the circumstances and give me a prison sentence instead of…of…" Beatrice could not put it into words. The thought of hanging or having her head lopped off terrified her. Even thinking of either way to inflict her death caused her neck to ache.

Raoul forbade her to do anything without discussing it with him first. They were in this together and he would see her safe no matter the cost.

Beatrice looked at Raoul as if he had lost his mind when he told her where he thought to hide her. Christine had her share of incredulous looks as well to shoot in Raoul's direction. Christine's incredulity stemmed from how placidly Raoul put forth his proposal knowing how much he hated the idea.

Beatrice had to wonder did they think she had killed one monster to save herself only to be thrown into the clutches of another? When she voiced her concerns both Christine and Raoul told her that more than likely this man had moved on. Christine felt a little less sure as her Angel had only ever really lived underneath the opera house. It had been his domain and under his complete control until the new management had taken over.

Christine did not know if Erik would allow anyone, especially a woman to invade his domain if he still occupied those miles of tunnels and water canals that lead to the lake in front of his home.

Between the two of them they gave Beatrice an accurate description of the place she would stay as well as the man who had lived as a ghost and phantom in that place. Christine's words spoke of romance and wonder while Raoul's told of danger around every corner. His voice took on a strained quality as he retold of his ordeal to rescue Christine. Beatrice had heard it before but felt Raoul needed to retell the story to emphasize just how dangerous the cellars could be and how dangerous the Phantom could be if provoked.

"Do…do you suppose he will still be there? Surely not. Why would he stay? If his love for Christine had kept him there, with her gone would he not wish to leave as well?" For her sake Beatrice hoped the monstrous man long gone. She had not just released herself from one violent man only to leap into the arms of another.

Hours of discussing only brought about more questions than answers. At last it had been decided that Raoul would ask Madame Giry to accompany him down below. Raoul did not know his way about as Madame did.

Madame would also perhaps serve as a buffer between the two men who had vied for Christine's love. Erik may not take it too kindly if Raoul showed up alone. Even with Madame Erik may decide to attack first and ask questions later. Madame had after all betrayed Erik as well. She had lead Raoul down into the underbelly of the opera house.

If Beatrice was to spend perhaps months with Erik she would need to know all that they could tell her. Christine penned a letter immediately to Madame asking for her to come at her convenience for a visit. There was a matter of the utmost importance they needed to discuss.

Christine asked for Madame to send a telegram to the address enclosed. As an afterthought Christine asked for Meg to come along. It might be the last time they saw one another for a long time. Christine had missed Meg. They had not only been best friends but surrogate sisters as well.

Considering how far they were from Paris Raoul thought it should take at least a week for the letter to reach Madame then a day or two for the telegram to arrive. All in all things should be settled within a couple of weeks, three at the most with planning and making all the arrangements necessary.

Only a few days after the letter had been sent a servant from the Tolliver estate asked to speak to the master of the house. It was urgent according to the man. Raoul had no doubt it was.

Raoul had Christine take Beatrice to her bedroom so her servant would not catch sight of her.

The man introduced himself as Barton, Madame Tolliver's butler. Yesterday when it had been necessary to go into the basement for kerosene the scullery maid was met with a horrific sight. Monsieur Tolliver had been found dead in the basement, or at least they assumed it to be the master. The body had his clothing as well as certain jewelry known to be worn by the man daily. It had been a gruesome sight to say the least.

Barton told Raoul that the key had gone missing so it had been necessary to break the door down as no one had been able to jimmy the lock. The outside doors had been locked as well. Raoul read the man's belief on his face. With both doors locked from the outside murder could be the only solution.

Raoul tried to show horror upon hearing the news. Knowing what he did now made it hard to show any concern for his onetime friend. He forced himself to show concern for the fate of Lawrence if indeed the body proved to be his friend. Knowing absolutly the identity of the corpse forced Raoul to call upon hitherto unknown acting skills.

Barton asked Monsieur what he should do. Raoul pretended to give the matter some thought. He then sent the man with a short note to take to the local authorities. Within a couple of hours someone would be investigating the incident at the Tolliver estate.

Only a few hours later someone would come to the de Chagny estate. By supper they would be having a visit from the local police. Raul felt he must prepare Christine and Beatrice for that eventuallity. He would not allow Christine to be present during the discussion nor Beatrice. His need for preparing them stemmed from the obvious need Beatrice felt to confess even if it frightened to think of doing so.

Christine and Raoul went over and over what he would say. He must stick to the truth as closely as he could without letting anyone know of Beatrice's presence. The staff from her home may or may not inform the authorities of her intention to come to his home. His guess would be they would only relay that information if asked directly.

Baton he felt sure may even be willing to lie for Beatrice as he had a soft spot for her as did all of the staff. Raoul had been learning that Lawrence may have been the master of the house but the loyalty of those servants had been firmly on the side of Beatrice. She had told him that they could not openly show any sign of sympathy but many times a cup of tea would be waiting when she creeped out of a bath that had soothed many wounds.

As best as they could they had made certain the master had nothing to complain about as to the household being kept nice and tidy. Meals were prepared with extra care. They had done what they could but Beatrice had told him they had felt it not enough. She had received many looks filled with pity as well as sympathy for her plight.

Raoul sent away the younger members of his staff for a night on the town in Paris at his expense. He could not take the chance they may well speak out of turn. The older staff members were loyal to a fault. They would say little if anything at all. The less said the better had been Raoul's thought on the matter.

Just as everyone sat down for their evening meal a maid came in to inform them that an Inspector Rousseau was at the door wishing for an audience with Monsieur. Would Monsieur be speaking to the gentleman and where should she take the man if that was the case?

Raoul calmly instructed Christine once again to take Beatrice from the lower level of the house. He informed her it would be best to use the servant's stairs at the back of the kitchen. When they had almost left the room Raoul called Christine back to take away all of the evidence a third party had been sitting at the table just in case the inspector got nosy.

Beatrice cast an indecisive glance at Raoul. She had begun to reconsider having him risk everything for her benefit. If anything should go wrong Raoul and Christine could be joining her on the gallows if they were found out.

Raoul greeted Inspector Rousseau with courtesy but haughty elegance as was expected of the titled when speaking to a public servant. It was not how Raoul thought things should be nor was it how he usually treated those who held a lower station in life. Now he felt disdain for anyone not from the aristocracy would serve him well.

The inspector ostentatiously brought out a small tablet and pencil. Many notes had been scribbled on several pages. It was these pages the inspector referred to when speaking to Raoul. "Monsieur de Chagny, I have been to the estate of one…uh…Monsieur Lawrence Tolliver. If you would be so kind to please tell me where I might find Madame Tolliver I will leave you in peace.

I am aware you were informed of Monsieur's untimely death. Foul play is definitely suspected. It is also suspected your very own cousin, one Madame Beatrice Tolliver to be directly or indirectly responsible for his death. I cannot say it is a murder until I speak with Madame. It could well have been an accident and the poor distraught woman out of fear tried to hide the crime then make an escape. If such was the case you can be sure we will take those circumstances into consideration."

Inspector Rousseau looked at Raoul expectantly. When nothing had been forthcoming he decided a subtle threat might work on the man. Surely the threat of prison or worse would realign his loyalties.

"I should warn you that withholding evidence or harboring a suspected criminal is a serious crime."

The man kept looking at his notes the whole time he spoke. Raoul wanted to rip the thing from the man's hand. Did he think he would find the answer's written down neat and tidy?

Raoul was no stranger to this method of interrogation. The inspector wished for him to think he had some knowledge Raoul did not wish him to have and was checking to see if what Raoul told him meshed with what he knew.

Many guilty men and women had confessed to their crimes using this method to bluff them into thinking the police had more information than they actually had. The military used this same tactic on prisoners so they gave away more than they intended.

Looking down his nose as he stood at his considerable height, Raoul informed the inspector that he and his wife had only a week or so ago returned home.

They had not seen or heard from either Monsieur or Madame Tolliver. Naturally as they were only newly wed they wished for their privacy. Invitations to their home would have to wait until after they returned from their honeymoon.

It was a terrible crime and Raoul worried in case the criminal who committed this crime had done something to his cousin or taken her as a hostage for some nefarious reason.

Inspector Rousseau must let them know if anything came to light before they left in the next few days. As Raoul spoke he had been gently ushering the gentleman out the door of his study and down the hall toward the front door.

The inspector wished he had the authority to detain Monsieur de Chagny, but not enough evidence had been ferreted out as of yet to hold anyone. The only viable suspect at the moment was Madame Tolliver. She was the only person missing. Inspector Rousseau had not overlooked the fact that the doors had all been locked from the inside. Someone had taken great care to place lime over the body delaying decomposition as well as staving off any odors.

The next few months all of Paris would be deeply into the oncoming war. Already things were untenable. Even as far out as they were occasional troops, both French and Prussian, passed by on their way to some battle or other.

Every commodity had become scarce. Soon there would be nothing for the citizens to eat then all hell would break loose. A murder case would be the farthest thing from anyone's mind.

Raoul bid the inspector a polite yet haughty farewell. The dark scowl on the inspector's face did not bode well. Raoul could almost say with certainty the man would come again snooping about whether at the front door or from the bushes.

Raoul went upstairs to find Beatrice nervously pacing with Christine doing her best to calm her. Feeling a bit unsettled himself Raoul would have paced about if he thought it would do any good. He needed a cool calm head at the moment. He could not lose sight of their objective.

Now it would be a waiting game for an answer to come from Madame Giry. The days until that telegram arrived were some very tense days indeed.

Christine looked forward to seeing her adopted sister again. She only wished it could have been under better circumstances. During the days waiting for the arrival of their guests Christine acquainted Beatrice with all she knew of her surrogate family and the man she might have to coexist with if he had not been killed or fled his home.

The painful twist in her chest at the thought of Erik, her Angel of Music being dead, left Christine breathless whenever the possibility of such an ending for him came to mind. He could have been such a light in this world if only the world would have given him a chance or more likely he had given the world a chance.

Not everyone in the world held such superstitious beliefs that those who were marked at birth were in league with the devil. Enlightened minds would have welcomed her tutor into the magical world of the arts. How different things would have been for him. The only negative thing Christine could see in that scenario would be that she would not likely have met her angel nor benefited from his teaching.

The day one of the gardeners came to the side entrance off the patio to announce a carriage coming down the drive Christine squealed inelegantly then pulled Beatrice along by the hand toward the front of the house.

At the front drive Christine bounced on her toes as if that would hurry the carriage along. Beatrice could not help but be amused by Christine's exuberance. Oh to be so young and unencumbered by life. Beatrice then remembered that all of Christine's later life had not been without its perils. She had survived without it dragging her into despair. Beatrice only hoped the same would happen for her.

The coach came to a rocking halt just a few feet from the trio waiting. Raoul did not wait for the footman to assist the ladies from the carriage. He opened the door and held his hand out to Meg.

She daintily placed her hand in his. No sooner had she set foot on the drive when Christine rushed to hug her as she chattered and fired questions. Only Madame's voice coming from inside the carriage could stop Christine once she got started.

"Christine dear child, let us at least step from the carriage before you attack us," Madame Giry admonished but with laughter in the reprimand. She too had missed her other daughter. Meg had complained daily not being able to find comfort from the daily dissidence around Paris without her sister's ear. Madame had missed Christine's calming effect on Meg's excitable nature.

When Antoinette had first brought Christine to the opera house she had been a quiet withdrawn child. Meg had brought her out of her shell. Christine had never been as rowdy as Meg but the two women complemented one another perfectly acting as foils one for the other.

Antoinette stretched her arms wide to accept Christine into her warm embrace. She too had missed Christine and worried that she would not recover from all that horrid business of the last few months.

Erik also had been on her mind. She had not been able to find him in any of the usual tunnels or his home. What belongings of Erik's that had been left intact by the mob lay on the stone floor of Erik's grotto waiting for someone to once again make use of them.

Antoinette did not believe Erik would leave his home for good. He was too much a creature of habit. Once a safe warren had been found he would not abandon it so easily.

For Erik it would be a simple matter to change the path to his home. He had done so many times over the years. When he wanted Antoinette to bring him something to his home detailed drawings had to be made pointing out every trap. Erik changed things randomly so not even Antoinette could invade his home without peril.

When she had directed Raoul to Erik's home she had only been able to take him so far as the rest of the way was unknown to her since the last time Erik changed the tunnels.

The women chattered as they walked into the house continuing on down into the parlor. Beatrice listened to all the lighthearted conversation gladly letting it fill her mind with other than her own misery and dread.

Once everyone had caught up with all that had been happening Raoul posed his problem to Antoinette. She had insisted as he was now part of their family he should call her by her given name. Christine had never been able to call Antoinette Maman nor Antoinette. Madame had always been the way Christine addressed her. It did not mean Christine did not think of Antoinette with daughterly affection. She did indeed feel as if Madame had been more mother to her than her own dead parent. Madame had been the only mother she could remember.

Raoul unfolded the horror that had been Beatrice's life thus far. He blamed himself for most of her suffering. Beatrice would not let him harbor the notion he had in any way been responsible for what had happened. Everything could be laid at the feet of her now dead husband, Lawrence Tolliver.

When Raoul made the suggestion of taking Beatrice underneath the opera house Antoinette at first objected strenuously. They could not be certain Erik did not still roam his former domain. The opera house itself would be under reconstruction as private donations had come in to support the rebuilding. Government funds had also been made available.

Antoinette asked Raoul how he would get supplies to Beatrice once everyone was gone. His plan had been to stockpile dry goods as well as canned items. Smoked meat could be kept well in the cool underground.

There had to be a fresh water supply as Erik had lived there and would have need for water.

After much discussion and debate the final conclusion had been that taking Beatrice to the opera house would be her most likely escape from being captured. Who would think to look in the burned out building with so many walking about during the day and guards posted at night?

So it was decided they would take Beatrice to the opera house hoping she would not have any unwanted company. Antoinette, Raoul and Beatrice would be making the journey. When Christine and Meg both protested being left behind they soon won their point as time was of the essence.

Beatrice borrowed what she would need from Christine as she had only brought a few items with her in the small case. Raoul had gone into his study to take all the funds he had in his safe so Beatrice would have money when it became safe enough for her to leave her hiding place.

Raoul even gave her a pistol with plenty of ammunition, just in case the maniac did still live within the far reaching tunnels. She might need that protection if Erik had not regained his senses or perhaps even if he had. The recluse had not cared for visitors at any time during his reign of terror over all who lived and worked within the walls of the opera house.

The morning would find them all in a carriage headed toward some unknown fate. Beatrice felt as if some new plan for her life had been set in motion over which she had no control. She should be feeling dread but not knowing why Beatrice felt eager to begin her life in solitude if the ghost had moved on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Facing the Rage of an Angel**

In the following week Inspector Rousseau came no fewer than three times. It made preparing for what they needed to do all the more difficult as they never could be certain the man would not show up without warning. Most things had to be accomplished under cover of darkness. Only someone desparate for an arrest would carry things so far as to spend hours watching a home throughout the night.

With so much happening all around Paris a murder with only circumstantial evidence had been deemed of little importance by the inpsector's chief thought all hands were needed to handle the dissidents as well as the looters which would be crawling out of the woodwork along with every other thief.

Raoul had the servants raid the larder for everything they could spare. Being an estate that was self-sufficient would allow them to send enough for Beatrice to live comfortably for some six months or so. That should give Paris time to recover as well as let the police push her case to the bottom of the pile. Hopefully Inspector Rousseau would find another sensational story to put his inquisitive nose into.

Extra blankets, toiletries, kerosene and candles were crated over the next few days. The pile grew to proportions such that one could be forgiven thinking the de Chagny's would be going on some faraway excursion or other. Having to load a wagon hidden in the stables only at night had not been an easy task either. Raoul would take no chances of someone seeing the activity who might not have Beatrice's best interests at heart.

A flatbed wagon had been loaded then a waterproof tarp placed over all items. It would not do to be seen carting goods through the streets of Paris at a time when everything had become quite scarce. Thieves would be all to glad to relieve them of their goods. Food at this time had almost become worth more than gold.

Raoul borrowed clothing from some of his servants for himself and the women. Looking wealthy or titled at this time would be an invitation to thieves or dissidents. Many nobles had already been hung or killed in their sleep by their servants. Some had even meet their end at the guillotine.

Wanting no one to know what the wagon held Raoul and the stable hands piled on some old furnishings that had been lying in the attic for years. To the casual onlooker it would seem as if another family had decided to leave the ravaged city of Paris behind. Antoinette told Raoul of the Rue Scribbe entrance. She did not know the way to Erik's but by trial and error they may find a suitable place for Beatrice even if they did not find Erik's lair.

She advised him that marking the way would make it easier to find their way out as well as mark tunnels already explored.

Raoul asked how they would know if Erik still lurked in the bowels of the opera or not. Antoinette had told him not to worry. If Erik still lived there he would know of their presence as soon as they stepped one foot inside the gate of the Rue Scribbe side alley. Erik had always been fond of little alarms that let him know of intruders.

They began their journey long before dawn hoping to arrive in Paris just as the sun settled behind the horizon. Stops would be made along the way to enjoy little respites for food and the necessity for use of the bushes.

The women sensing Beatrice becoming more tense as they neared Paris rallied around her for support. As much as they could each contributed some little comedic tale from their time at L'Opéra Populaire. Beatrice appreciated their kindness but could not help feeling she would soon be placed in the realm of some violent monster.

Horrific pictures flashed through her mind of the man everyone had described to her. For all his monstrous traits they all agreed he was heaven sent when playing music or singing. If not for his deformity on the right side of his face they told her he would have been very handsome. Christine and Meg thought him handsome regardless. His temper on the other hand left much to be desired.

She could not imagine what his face looked like as each woman had a different perspective. Only Raoul seemed to be able to relay any accurate unbiased description. Raoul was if nothing else an honest man. She could trust him to tell her the truth.

From what the women said he was somewhere between God's gift to women to some poor maimed, misunderstood recluse. Beatrice could not imagine a man who had so much to offer willingly living in hiding like some hibernating animal.

Sympathy for the man must have clouded their judgment. He would not fool her. Her days of blindly accepting the opinion of others were gone. From now on she would scrutinize everything men said to her and every little action they committed. She would never fall prey to anyone who would use her so badly again.

She had killed once and she could and would do so again. If that man, Erik so much as looked at her wall-eyed she would use Raoul's pistol to good effect.

They reached the inner city just as night began to claim the day. Raoul took the long way around to the Rue Scribbe. There seemed to be no one about so Raoul instructed the two servants he had brought along to help him unload everything inside the gated tunnel.

The women helped as much as they could. It took over an hour to unload everything. By this time it was completely dark.

Raoul lit two lanterns. One he carried and the other he gave to Antoinette so she could lead the way. They each had a piece of chalk so they could make markings along the way.

The women were glad of the britches and men's boots now that they were in the damp muddy tunnel. Cool moist air blew past them gently waving their loosened hair across their cheeks. If they were of a superstitious nature they could almost believe that ghostly fingers caressed along their soft flesh.

Raoul did not believe in ghosts but he did believe in what he could see and feel. Coming back to this place he could almost feel the ominous presence of his rival and enemy.

The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. As he followed behind the women he felt certain eyes watched every step they took.

Raoul unsheathed his sword. He would be ready if Erik chose to attack. He doubted he would as Christine and the other women were present. If one thing could be said about Raoul's nemesis he had never willingly hurt a woman or child regardless of what those who loved to gossip said.

Erik stood to the left of the little group walking his tunnel. He had been on his way to reconnoiter for a few supplies when the first alarm had sounded. Several more had alerted him that whoever entered his domain seemed intent on coming farther into the tunnel than anyone had before.

He cursed his lack of forethought in not relocking the gate. Things had been neglected for quite some time in his home.

Right after the disastrous performance of his one and only staged opera, Erik had left his home soon after watching Christine leave with her young swain de Chagny.

Erik had been roaming aimlessly around France, Italy, Germany and even into India. He had tired of the useless traveling. It did not waylay any of his hurt or anger.

He felt it best to return where he felt at least as if he belonged. Not everyone stared or commented but enough did to make it wearisome and disheartening.

When he had first seen Christine following just a few steps behind Madame Giry, Erik had nearly succumbed to the darkness of a dead faint. He had thought never to lay eyes on her again. Now here she was almost within touching distance.

She looked just as beautiful as he remembered. His hand began to reach out to touch her hair but he quickly snatched it back upon seeing Raoul. He had not even really taken note of the others. Christine had been his focus as soon as he saw her. The others had faded into the background.

Erik nearly growled in his anger to see Madame Giry and Raoul again. Madame Giry he might forgive in time but Raoul had taken his heart right out of his chest rendering him all but dead.

Logically Erik had come to accept that Raoul had done nothing he himself would not have done had the opportunity been afforded him.

Erik's resentment and jealousy of the other man he could not contain nor keep at bay. He wanted to rip Raoul to shreds with his bare hands or better yet let one of his snares hang the confident fool. All Erik would have to do would be to follow along in an adjacent tunnel waiting for just the right moment to trigger the noose to fall then lift the unsuspecting man choking him until he breathed no more.

Such a gruesome sight would upset Christine greatly as well as turn her further against her Angel. Oh God how Erik longed to hear her whisper softly the only name she had known him by. Only she had called him an Angel. Everyone else had thought him to be spewed up from the bowels of hell.

When they came to a cross section of tunnels Erik thought he might apprise them of his presence. He wished to know why Madame and that fool boy would dare to come into his domain without benefit of an invitation after their last unpleasant parting.

Christine would be the only one he welcomed into his home. Meg he recognized but the other woman he did not know. She looked slightly haunted already. He assumed the slightest bit of ghostly behavior from him would send her running helter-skelter into the maze of tunnels. She would either become hopelessly lost or fall victim to one of his traps. If she were lucky the trap would not be of the lethal variety.

As he stalked the group Erik wondered what he could do to separate Christine from them without causing undue fuss until after he had whisked her away.

The turn in the next tunnel had one of his traps which lowered a swinging club that would render a person unconscious only, unless they were unlucky and it landed a deadly blow to the temple.

Erik decided he would risk using it on Raoul. Raoul would drop his lantern causing Antoinette to startle and if luck were with him she too would drop her lantern. In the ensuing darkness Erik could whisk Christine away.

Erik hurried ahead. Waiting for just the right moment he triggered the mechanism that lowered the swinging club. He heard a satisfactory grunt then a thud as a heavy body hit the stones on the floor.

The women screamed and screeched in fright. Opening his secret panel, Erik reached out and grabbed the woman he assumed to be Christine. He could not remember Christine being quite so feisty. She kicked and clawed at him. Damned if she did not bite the palm of his hand.

Even when he had dragged her down from the burning stage the night of the fire Christine had only struggled lightly against his greater strength. Now she fought like a tigress. Erik felt himself becoming quite excited during this play for power between them.

He cursed having left his gloves back on his workbench. Christine's teeth were quite lethal upon his skin. He would be playing his organ with painful reminders of her teeth for quite some time.

He heard Meg and Antoinette calling to Raoul. He heard the third woman's voice. Damn if that other woman did not sound like Christine.

Tiring of fighting her Erik hoisted Christine over his shoulder. She began to pummel his back and kick her feet. Taking advantage of her position Erik swatted her on her derriere. In the old days Erik would never have dared to do any of this to Christine.

When she screamed cursing him with words he thought only salty sailors would say Erik's mind began to question whether he had the right woman. Christine would never speak so coarsely. The strongest word she would use would be perhaps to call him a brute.

Reaching his reconstructed lair Erik went into what was now his bedroom. He dumped the woman down to see what sort of colossal mistake he had made and how he might remedy the situation.

Having relieved himself of his burden Erik lit a lamp on the wall. He turned up the gas for a brighter light in the room.

When he turned Erik froze in place to see the woman lying in his bed. Not Christine. Definitely not Christine. This would be the strange woman he had seen earlier.

From their struggle the woman's clothing had come undone giving Erik a very good look at the tops of creamy breasts. He forced his gaze to look elsewhere. Her hand lifted to brush the hair from her eyes.

Fear and anger warred for supremacy. She scooted back as far as she could on the bed. Grabbing the front of the shirt she brought the ends together.

Erik had seen women wear men's clothing often during performances. He had always been of the opinion women looked much more alluring in men's garments than men did wearing women's garments when called upon to wear them for a performance.

They continued to look at one another as they sized the other up. The woman had hair almost as dark as the wigs he wore. That thought brought a curse to his mouth as well as his hands to his head. He had not replaced his wig when he took it off to work on his new table. Damn his luck. At least he had the forethought to replace his mask. That act had always been second nature for him.

As their chests heaved and they continued to stare the woman asked barely above a whisper, "Are…are you him? That…luna…that man who kidnapped Christine? Please don't hurt me. I…I mean you no harm. Christine…she…she is with me. Please let me go and we will leave. I…I promise."

As she spoke the woman began to gather herself into a ball. She had backed herself as far as possible into the corner of the bed. It angered Erik that she assumed he would hurt her. Perhaps he should not disappoint her.

Leaning down Erik propped one knee on the bed. Reaching out with his hand he snagged her ankle. Giving one mighty tug Erik drew her to him. He laid down covering her body with his own. He was careful to keep his weight distributed so he did not hurt her. He only wished to frighten her not harm her in any way.

She deserved a little discomfort and worry for invading his home and reacting as she did. Erik discounted the fact that he had grabbed her then treated her like a sack of flour.

As soon as his body covered hers he knew it was a mistake. Not only because of the reaction he felt growing in his trousers but the woman began to scratch and claw at him again while letting out blood curdling screams.

Erik caught her hands then pinned them to the mattress. Gathering them together in one hand he then used his free hand to cover her mouth to stifle the sounds nearly splitting his eardrums.

No doubt the others would have heard the woman's banshee calls. Now they would think he had laid lecherous hands on her. What would Christine think of him now? Nothing worse than she already did most likely Erik felt certain. He had lost her favor months ago.

"If I let you go will you promise not to scream? I will not hurt you. I may look monstrous but I am not a fiend." When he was sure she would not once again proceed to try to wake the dead Erik cautiously took his hand away.

When nothing but rapid breathing came from her Erik began to remove himself from her slowly. He did not trust her to do him some damage with one lethal kick of her feet. Indeed he knew she had been contemplating just that as her eyes drifted down to his trouser front then swiftly away.

"Who are you and why are you and the others tramping about my domain? Did they not tell you how _**dangerous**_ this place is, how _**dangerous I**_ am?"

Erik put emphasis on certain words to let her know just how dangerous he might be if the situation warranted. Just when he thought she would remain silent he heard her speak.

"My…name is Beatrice, Beatrice Tolliver. I am Raoul's cousin. I…I have need of shelter. Christine and Raoul thought this to be a somewhat safer place than out among everyone else just at the moment.

Obliviously they did…did not remember just how…how devilish you were. Raoul…Raoul will be furious you have taken me. He would have…have hunted you down if it had been Christine. She…she is who you intended to take is…is that not so?"

The woman, Beatrice, tried to speak bravely but her stuttering and chattering teeth gave away her fear. The shivering of her body told just how afraid of him she really was.

He had not missed the wrinkling of her nose either. If he was to be honest he must smell like he had wallowed with the pigs. He had not shaved or bathed in perhaps a few weeks. He had only sluiced off in a cursory manner when he awoke in the mornings.

After his failure with Christine he had cared little for his appearance. It had not won him any favor from the fairer sex in some thirty years so what difference did it make? Who down here would there be to see him or care if he strutted around sans clothing?

Christine had not seemed to notice or care that he had taken extreme measures to insure he did not carry any of the musty smell from the damp underground nor the smell of death from those who lay rotting in the catacombs. If the air traveled just so, at times he did get an unpleasant whiff now and again.

Well if he offended her too bad. He had not gone to her home invading her privacy. She should feel lucky his displeasing person was all she encountered. The rats were not quite so particular who they had for dinner quests as he might be.

Erik rationalized his misconduct with the fact that if they had not come there would have been no abduction or need to act in self-defense.

He worried now, when it was far too late to do anything, whether or not he had killed Raoul with his trap. Christine would never forgive him if he ended that damn boy's life.

Erik cursed himself for acting so hastily. He should have made certain just where Christine was before he grabbed the first warm womanly body he touched. His haste to see Christine once more had brought about an error in his judgment. He wished he had time to make himself more presentable.

For once his looks had not been his paramount concern. Once he saw Christine all else had ceased to matter. He could justify his appearance if he wished. He was not a slovenly man normally.

Once he had returned from his travels Erik had taken a look at his home and felt saddened to see the destruction. Once that had passed he had been possessed with the urge to rebuild his domain. He would build a palace. A hovel would no longer suit him.

He borrowed a few supplies and materials from the workers in the upper level of the opera house. His opera house would be undergoing modernization as well as beautification. His home would be no less grand.

Erik had worked hard from morning until night bringing life back to his domicile. Grandeur such as one would not expect took the place of the rustic opulence he had before. He took little time away from constructing his own furniture as well as building rooms to suit his needs. Everything would be finished within the month. Then he would be bringing down the fineries to finish off his lavish abode.

Glancing once more toward his reluctant guest he was reminded of his other uninvited guests. So many guests in one day, why he just might become a social butterfly. Erik could not remember ever having a guest other than Christine. amd she had definitely been a reluctant guest.

He supposed he must go back and find them. Otherwise he might have four more people's deaths on his hands. He did not want Christine to fall victim to one of his traps as she roamed about the tunnels looking for a way out. Calling out would do no good. No one would hear other than Erik.

The tunnels were made so that the sound would travel round and round tunnel after tunnel until the sound faded into silence. Erik had not wanted his music to be heard by anyone other than the people living in the opera house. Even then he sometimes closed off certain tunnels or grates in the flooring if he wanted no one to hear him and come snooping about down in the lower cellars where he frequently roamed like a restless ghost.

"If I go to find the others will you stay put and not wander around putting yourself in danger? I assure you the trap which incapacitated Raoul is only one of many. Some less benign than others."

Beatrice nodded her head. After her earlier loose tongue she now felt as if she had lost the ability to speak ever again. She felt so frightened. This man, Christine's angel reminded Beatrice of Lawrence with his uncontrolled behavior.

Beatrice was well acquainted with the violence men perpetrated on weaker women. She had learned how to fight back to a certain degree but never had she been able to stop Lawrence from beating her senseless until she had crossed the line from mere defense to murder.

She might see her actions as justified but the law would not. If this man before her was to be her salvation Beatrice thought she had drawn the short stick once again.

With another admonishment not to move Erik left Beatrice so he could return to the others. He hoped Raoul had only been injured and not killed. A hysterical woman would not be pleasant. Christine hating him would be intolerable. He wished he had thought through his plan before acting so hastily.

Often haste had been his downfall. If he saw something he wished to possess he took it regardless of any negative outcome. Denying himself what few comforts he could provide had never been a strong point with Erik.

He had so few things in life that he grabbed greedily at those things he could possess. At times Erik behaved like a child taking what he could without considering the owner's feelings for their property.

**A/N: How lovely it would be to come back from the doctor's and see a few nice reviews. Wish me luck everyone. Hate going to the doctor's but it is a necessary evil this time. Bad things going on in my legs, throat and chest. **


	5. Chapter 4 Part II

A/N: Originally the last chapter and this one were one chapter. As it was over 7000 words I broke it up. So carry on with part II.

**Chapter Four Part II**

**Facing the Rage of an Angel**

Erik paused by a mirror on his way out of his lair. That alone said something about how he felt. He never looked in a mirror that revealed his whole face. He always made sure to keep it tilted just so. Now he looked at himself in his repulsive entirety. Chrisine and the others had seen him like this before, bare, exposed for all to see. What difference did one more person make, someone he cared nothing for nor even knew? It shouldn't matter but it did.

His dark brown hair lay in an untidy mess about his head. A few weeks worth of whiskers grew on the lower portion of his face. His clothing left much to be desired. He had not changed in a couple of days. His shirt showed stains from perspiration from his labors as well as dirt.

He sniffed about his person only now noticing the unpleasant odor permeating his body and clothing. Why had he not taken the time to at least bathe and change his clothing? The answer was quite simple. He had not expected company, least of all Christine.

Angrily he grabbed a lantern. He could not put off what he must do. The way back took less time to traverse as he was without his burden and his angry steps carried him swiftly back through the tunnel.

Erik stood for a moment then took a last deep breathe before he spoke from is hiding place, "Madame it is I, Erik. I am going to open the panel so I may join you. Please do not be alarmed. I am only offering my help, nothing more."

Erik opened the panel and immediately was set upon by Christine and Madame. Meg held back enjoying the show. She had never really ever been afraid of the Phantom. She had long suspected her Maman had more to do with him than just delivering his notes. She could not help but notice the extra funds that came just when they had the need without an explanation who sent them.

The man had gone a bit insane at the last but having heard the full details from Maman and Christine Meg could feel a bit of sympathy for him. He had suffered as no human should. Who was to say if any of them had gone through the same they would not have acted the same?

Erik fended off the blows without striking out. He did not wish to harm either woman. Once they tired of pummeling him whilst calling him every name they knew, Erik grabbed both women by the waist and lifted them off their feet. They continued to struggle but with less energy or accuracy in their blows.

"Enough. If you wish for me to help de Chagny then please cease this hoydenish behavior. Madame such language and Christine I do think a Vicomtesse should be a bit more circumspect."

Erik wanted to drop Antoinette and wrap his arms around Christine. He knew it would not take much for him to drop to his knees begging for her to stay with him. He would cling to her while he poured out his heartache. He could not let himself be diminished in Christine's eyes like that again. Once acting the poor rejected lover had been enough.

Gently he released both women. Once on their feet they both turned toward him as they backed away. It hurt Erik to think Christine feared him so much. He could plainly see her distrust written on her face. Anger shook her body. Antoinette had more a look of disappointment.

"Angel why? Why did you do this? Why take a woman you do not even know? Have…have you…have you harmed her?" Christine could not bear to think he had done anything to Beatrice. Erik had never been violent with women. She hoped he still held the belief that all women were sacred.

"It was purely a case of mistaken identity. I had planned to steal you away so we might have a private chat but as you know things did not turn out the way I would have wished. The lady in question is even now resting in my bed. No harm has been done to her."

Erik bent down to check on the state of Raoul. Christine took a step toward him but Antoinette held her back. Now that the surprise of Erik's appearance had worn off Antoinette felt a little ashamed for her part in the attack on Erik. She did not really think he would harm her or Christine.

Raoul was another matter altogether. She felt certain he would do nothing in front of Christine now that his madness had left him. He did look and sound as if he had a better grasp on reality.

Checking Raoul's pulse Erik found a strong and steady rhythm. His pupil's seemed to be normal. They reacted to the light when he brought it close to his face. Staring at his hated enemy Erik found himself torn by his promise to do no harm while wanting to wrap his hands around Raoul's throat.

Erik had to grit his teeth as he touched that perfect face. The face that had won Christine's love and devotion while he had only earned her hatred and betrayal.

Standing abruptly he stated tersely, "He will be fine. A headache will be all that he will suffer once he wakes. I suppose you will expect me to carry him. Antoinette one of you will have to lead the way as my lanter seems to have been broken."

"Erik it is your fault he is incapacitated. Would it not be only proper for you to make sure he comes to no further harm?" Madame's accusation made in the tone of a mother reprimanding her recalcitrant child, had Erik's face turning a guilty pink. He felt like a small boy under Antoinette's stare. She alone could make him feel such things. For many years she had indeed played the part of his mother, at least as much as he would let her.

"Madame I might remind you I did not come looking for you. Your little troupe came into my domain uninvited I might remind you once again. However, as it would please Christine I will take excellent care of her…her husband." Erik nearly choked to have need to speak of Christine and her boy being tied in matrimony while he wasted away in dark loneliness.

Picking up his burden Erik threw Raoul over his shoulder none too gently. A grunt from Raoul drew a smile of satisfaction on Erik's lips. Erik started in surprise when Meg held out a lantern toward him. Not sayine a word he took it from her careful not to touch her hand. Erik could not help but think that to touch someone so pure after what he had done would condemn him to hell for certain.

He began the trek back to his home. He did not wait to see if the others followed him through the panel in the wall or not. They could come or stay, he cared neither one way nor the other, except perhaps Christine. For her he would come back if she did not follow.

He knew with surety her dainty feet were mere steps behind him. She would not trust him to keep his word not to harm her lover. On considering the matter perhaps she had a reason for concern. Had he not only moments ago thought of snapping the man's neck?

It took at least twenty minutes for Erik to travel what had only taken him ten minutes with the lighter burden of the woman. Even scratching and kicking she had been easier to carry than the dead weight of a much larger body.

Erik would arrive with sweat pouring down his face while his own body odor threatened to bring tears to his eyes. Why had he not noticed this morning his less than fresh smell?

Seeing the faint light coming from the grotto Erik nearly sighed allowed. For next to nothing he would have dropped de Chagny on his head if not for the women following behind him.

The woman, Beatrice had left his bedroom to sit poker straight in a chair by the fire. She had straightened her hair and her mussed clothing for which Erik silently thanked her. It would not do for everyone to know just how inhospitable he had been toward his unwanted guest.

Erik strode into his bedroom where he unceremoniously dumped his burden. He left after only a cursory inspection of de Chagny. Erik could not bear to look at the perfection of that boy's face.

Coming back into the room the chatter among the women stopped. They all looked toward him with accusation staring out at him from every pair of eyes, except for perhaps Meg's.

"What? I admit I was hasty but no real harm has been done. I did not take any liberties I swear on my honor as a gentleman."

Erik heard a snort come from behind him. De Chagny had woken and came out to join their impromptu soiree.

"Since when Monsieur Phantom have you had any honor?"

Antoinette and Christine rebuffed Raoul in unison. Meg looked about with interest wondering how this would all come out. Christine did not look like a woman who was still enamored of her one time teacher. At times Meg could hear the longing in Christine's voice when she spoke of him. At the moment she seemed to be genuinely angry with him.

She had even admitted to Meg that not all that passion on stage had been acting. Erik had the power to seduce without trying if he but knew it. Even loving Raoul Christine had admitted to feeling yearnings that were not proper to have for a man other than your intended or husband.

"Raoul that will do. That is no way to earn his acquiescence for the favor we must ask of him. Remember we need his good graces to aid our cause. Think of Beatrice," Christine pleaded with Raoul.

When all eyes turned to her, Beatrice felt as if the word murderess had been imprinted on her forehead for all to see. She knew the guilt of her crime would surely be clearly seen in her eyes. She need not verbally confess her crime. Evidence of what she had done would be glaringly obvious, at least that is how it felt to her at this moment.

Everyone had said they held no blame toward her for her part in the death of Lawrence, but she could not be so forgiving of her own sins even if some would say he deserved nothing better than what he had been given.

Antoinette took matters into her own hands as she went on to explain the dire need Beatrice had for shelter until such time it would be safe for her to go above ground. She had to go into great detail about how Beatrice had lived the last months of her life. Antoinette hoped she could reach some tender part of Erik she knew he possessed but kept well hidden.

"Madame you expect me to welcome a strange woman into my home? Why should her welfare be of any concern of mine?" Erik carried on this conversation as he watched Christine caress and fondle that blasted boy. Even he could see that they were devoted to one another.

All these months in the back of his mind he had kept the hope alive that Christine would come back to him if he could show her that he could give her just as much materially as Raoul could. His only lack in comparison would be his face.

In time Erik hoped even that would not be an issue. Christine had seemed not to mind his distorted face. Then he remembered her words. She had called him a" pitiful creature of darkness". She had believed the true distortion had been in his soul not his face. Christine thought it was the distorted outlook he had that drove him to the darkness in his soul. His many sins must have surely earned him a permanent place in hell.

Wishing only to be alone once more as pain gripped him with a near crippling blow, Erik shouted for them all to leave him in peace. He picked up the nearest object to hurl across the room to shatter against the wall.

The vase Erik had thrown just missed hitting Beatrice by inches. Glass flew everywhere covering the now near catatonic Beatrice. Flashbacks of another man hurling things at her came all too readily to her mind. She felt paralyzed. She wanted to scream, to run as far as her legs would carry her but every muscle in her body seemed to have atrophied. If she could have unlocked her muscles this man would have a bullet in him as he reminded her of how Lawrence would shout and throw things about.

Beatrice could only look at Erik in horror. Erik noted the draining of color from her face. He cursed himself inwardly. The woman had been through enough violent behavior but damn it he had no other outlet for his anger at the moment. Rather he threw the vase against the wall than de Chagny.

When Erik made a move toward Beatrice she stood quickly to her feet. As Beatrice's legs seemed to buckle under her Erik rushed forward to catch her in his arms. She fought against him of course. Erik began to hum a soothing lullaby. So low was the sound only Beatrice could hear it. At first she continued to struggle violently.

As her mind comprehended the hypnotic affect of the notes Beatrice began to still and relax. Erik had used this same method to calm wild horses or one that had been spooked by some unknown sound.

He placed Beatrice gently on his bed once more. This time she did not protest lying in his bed. She could only stare at him in wonder. Such angelic sounds had come from this man who had such violence in his makeup. While her mind had been focused on his voice her fear had seemed to drain from her.

Lawrence had never shown any such gentleness in his nature or hidden beauty. This man, Erik, must have some deeply buried gentle emotions to be able to make such wondrous sounds, something so calming.

If he were pure evil Beatrice felt she would know it. Looking into his eyes she thought she saw a kindred spirit, one that had been battered and ill-used. Perhaps they alone could truly understand what the other felt. If they could get past the pain and distrust maybe they might be able to help one another heal. A trouble shared is a trouble halved.

As Beatrice lay watching the others discussed plans and argued for nearly an hour. She felt quite unwanted at the moment. The man they called Erik made it sound as if she would be a tremendous burden on him. He begrudged giving her even the tiniest bit of space. She felt the need to remind him that he claimed that which did not belong to him. So much for being kindred spirits.

She had as much right to stay here as he did and stay she would. Folding her arms Beatrice felt an unusual stubborn streak coming on. Never would she have dared to defy her father or Lawrence whenever they had decreed what she would do or not do as they saw fit. She lay there stiff as a board with her arms crossed as her anger rose higher. She had always been the one to back off. The one to take the verbal dressing down and later the physical abuse from Lawrence.

Not any more. Had she not given over her soul to the devil to free herself? She would now make her own decisions. Come hell or high water she would be staying underneath the opera house. Perhaps not here, precisely, but somewhere in one of these many tunnels she could find a safe place to make herself a temporary home.

Sitting up Beatrice marched out into the middle of the arguing group. "I will be staying. You do not own any of this. I have as much right to stay as you do. If you object you are free to leave."

Everyone looked at Beatrice as if she had suddenly sprouted horns and a tail. No one ever dared rebut anything Erik had degreed with any success. Most had feared him far too much to try. The managers certainly had not found it easy to go against him.

"Madame, do you not know to whom you speak?" Erik advanced on the woman who had sat down in one of his chairs looking if she had already taken root.

"I am perfectly aware you are some fool who passed himself off as a ghost and phantom. You look all too real to me. Better for me if you were a ghost, then I could have you excised and have all of this to myself."

Beatrice marveled at the power she felt defying this man. She no longer felt afraid, only irritated. He was far too pompous for her taste. He needed for someone to let him know he was not Lord of all he surveyed and damned if she did not feel as if she would be the one to do it. Just how long this brave front would last she felt uncertain. Once the adrenalin receded she would likely wish to run for cover.

Christine went to Beatrice taking her arm gently as she whispered, "Be careful Beatrice. When angered he loses his judgment. He is dangerous. I would not have thought before that he would ever hurt a woman but all that has happened to him may have changed that little part of him that had even a semblance of humanity."

"I am aware of just the sort of man he is. He does not frighten me. I let Lawrence force me into groveling and sniveling at the slightest thing. I will not let any man or woman, ever do that to me again." Bravely she glared in Erik's direction.

Erik could not help but admire Beatrice for standing her ground even as it irked him. The woman clearly did not know what sort of man she opposed contrary to what she claimed. He perhaps should enlighten her as to a few of his misdeeds. Contrarily the dratted woman held her ground.

Another hour passed in heated debate. At last it became clear that Erik would only rid himself of the woman if he carried her out then barricaded the entrance.

Reluctantly he agreed to a trial period to see if she irritated him beyond his endurance. He would not coddle her nor watch out for her welfare. She must take her chances and fend for herself. He was no ones nursemaid.

Antoinette cajoled him into helping bring down the supplies. He had thought it would be a valise of clothing or perhaps a few personal items. He did not foresee the mound of crates that sat just inside the Rue Scribbe entrance. At least de Chagny had sense enough to set everything far enough away that it could not be seen by any casual passerby.

When Erik berated Raoul for leaving a wagon parked in the alley Raoul smirked whilst informing Erik that the flatbed wagon had been sent home and the carriage awaited them at the stable. All he need do was collect the carriage and they could be safely home by breakfast tomorrow if they felt it unsafe to stay in Paris.

If ever Erik wanted to knock that boys teeth out it was at that moment when he preened before Christine and those other women with his supposed superior intellect.

Erik could have delivered de Chagny a set-down but what would be the point? De Chagny would still be leaving with Christine while she carried Erik's heart away in her uncaring hands.

Without consulting Beatrice Erik summarily dismissed the offer to help unpack. Erik used the reasoning that it would be better to leave so that if they decided to stay in Paris for the night a safe place could be found for the four of them.

As they were about to leave Meg rushed back to the man she knew only as the Phantom for many years Lifting her skirt she handed him the mask she had kept with her at all times hoping to be able to return it to its rightful owner.

Erik had left it that night in his lair. When it had not been there when he had come back he thought it resided in the lake as much of his other belongings had. He had not considered that Meg had been coming after him to return his mask that night. He had hid from her thinking she tracked him down like all the others.

Such a kindness would never have occurred to him. Meg further shocked Erik when she went up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She whispered for him to be safe and to be kind to Beatrice.

When they left Erik watched until he could see them no more. His hand covered the place where Meg had placed her warm lips. Now when it was too late Erik felt he should have made an effort to get to know Meg a little better.

He could not help but wonder what would have been different in his life if his heart had chosen Meg instead of Christine. At least he would not have had such a persistent or handsome rival to contend with.

Turning back into his somewhat overly crowded living area Erik scanned all the crates until his eyes rested on the woman.

Now that she had won a victory shock seemed to have taken over. She sat looking lost with no idea how to proceed. Erik did not feel inclined to give her any assistance. Let her make her own way and stumble along as everyone else did. He had warned them he was not anyone's caretaker. Sometimes he did a poor enough job of taking care of himself.

With time for bed fast approaching Erik faced another problem. Where to put the woman for the night? He'd not be giving up his bed. He had become accustomed to sleeping on a soft mattress instead of that damn coffin. Only after Christine had left him and he had begun to travel had he slept in a bed. He could never bring himself to sleep in the bed he had made for Christine's comfort hoping she would be coming to him as his bride.

The mob had made kindling out of the swan bed. He had not had the heart to make another. That one had been a labor of love. To duplicate it would only be an added reminder how badly he had failed as a man, as if he needed further proof he was not quite a man.

"I am going to retire for the night. Find some other little corner as your own. Down stream there are other inlays where you can make a place to stay."

As he saw her eyes going around his own vast grotto he said, "I will not be sharing my space with you. I told you and the others I like my privacy. I'll not give up what peace I have. Furthermore if you think I will be carting anything to your new abode think again. I will make the concession of lending you my boat however. See, I am not completely without kindness."

Beatrice ignored him much to Erik's irritation. He had hoped to get a rise out of her. He found he quite enjoyed their exchanges even if they did anger him. At least she made him feel something other than misery. Anger heated the blood while misery all but stopped the flow altogether.

Erik went to his bedroom after showing Beatrice where his boat could be found. From the doorway of his room he watched her struggle with one crate after another. After only three she sat down on the fourth crate heaving in a most distracting manner. Erik felt the reaction to seeing her heaving bosoms much to his disgust.

Having a woman around day in and day out would only lead him into madness once more. Never having shared any intimacies with a woman Erik knew he would have to guard against the beast within him. Christine's closeness had nearly driven him mad at times.

If not for moments of self-pleasuring he may have done something regrettable. He would never have forced Christine into being intimate but the opera house had been filled with many women that for a price would have closed their eyes while letting him take his pleasure.

Erik had thought not to debase himself in that way as he wanted to come to Christine as pure as she had been. Well after de Chagny had only been in the picture a month, Christine's purity had been thrown by the wayside.

The night Erik had overheard the two lovers speaking of their shared confirmation of their love Erik had nearly given into the urge to kill de Chagny that night.

That incident had occurred just after their rooftop confession of love. That had also been the night Erik had heard from Christine's very lips how afraid of him she was and that she thought his face to be hardly a face at all.

Despair had driven him into a very dark place. Nothing but his death could have swayed what he planned for the whole of the opera house.

It had not turned out as Erik had planned but then he should know not to expect anything from life but pain, disappointment and betrayal from those he loved.

When Beatrice had a few crates loaded in the boat she heaved a sigh then untied the rope holding it to the makeshift dock. She stood looking around for an oar or something she could use to propel the boat through the water. If nothing else she would have to wade through the water pulling the boat along after her. She would not dare ask that man for anything. It went without saying he would let her drown in the lake before offering her a hand.

Despite his mask Beatrice could see the man was quite handsome but his personality left a lot to be desired. She could perhaps understand his attitude but that did not make it any less unpleasant.

Erik turned his back on the woman lest he give into his more chivalrous inclinations offering the woman a hand. The less contact he had with her the better. He could have told her the pole for the boat lay adjacent to the wooden dock just tucked up underneath the wooden planks. Laying on a flat surface kept the pole from warping. He kept this knowledge to himself.

Beatrice cursed Erik with every wet step she took into the water. It was not the temperature of the water that caused her to shiver. What had her looking about in fright was what might be lurking beneath the water. She would not put it past the man to have some deadly underwater traps set.

Taking one cautious step at a time Beatrice made her way downstream from where Erik had claimed all as his own domain. For the first time in her life Beatrice would be responsible for herself. She both welcomed that as well as feared it.

**A/N: Feeling better now with antibiotics doing their work. I hope they get rid of all the little buggers trying to do me in. I appreciate those who wished me well. Glad to see a few reviews. Every review is like a pat on the back. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Armed Truce**

Over the next few days Beatrice slowly brought the rest of her things to her little spot of heaven. The rats she tried her best to ignore. So far they had only been observing her from afar. She and Erik did not speak. Most of the time he appeared to be gone or probably peering at her from one of his hiding places. She really did not trust him and supposed he had no reason to trust or like her either.

Rather than try to maneuver all those heavy crates Beatrice opened them so she could carry everything back to her little nest. It would have gone quicker if Monsieur Phantom had deemed to offer his help. All he did was stand by and snicker as he watched her carry armloads of possessions to the boat on the few occasions he deingned to endure her presence.

After all the goods had been removed from the crates Beatrice broke some of them apart to use as firewood. She would need to find a source of fuel as her kerosene needed to be kept for the lantern. She had a good supply of candles but the lantern would come in handy when she went on one of her nocturnal prowling trips around the opera house. She intended to explore the whole of the opera house if the opportunity came her way.

She and her fellow occupant of the nether regions had danced around one another for the last three or so days. Neither could look the other in the eye. Beatrice on her part thought Monsieur I Am Above Mere Mortals thought himself too good to speak to her. Not that she cared one way or the other to hear anything he might have to say. Of course if he did speak to her all that she had dreamed would come rushing into her immediate thoughts giving her some very uncomfortable moments.

Managing to convince herself the man in the dream worked for her until she would catch a glimpse of the man in question. She supposed the womanly part of her that wanted some man to be gantle with her still lived on. For the most part she prayed she still would be able to have an intimate relationship with a man someday. Did she want him to be a murderer? A thief? An arsonist and God what else? Of course she didn't.

Since he had been the first and only man she had contact with other than her cousin Raoul she imagined her inner self had decided to make him some sort of hero here to rescue her. She could tell her inner self a thing or two about the man it had chosen to weave fantacies around. Nothing very honorable to be sure.

A few days, or perhaps weeks had passed, down in the lowest part of the opera house time passed without marking the passage of days. One slept when the urge to do so hit. If one felt hunger a meal could be eaten. Time held little meaning in the dark with no sun or moon to mark the passage of time.

Down here in the underbelly no one would suspect that shelling and looting had been going on all over Paris. It was only when one got to the cellars above this underground graveyard that one could here shouts of men and women.

Beatrice had braved taking a peek out a crack in the door. Men in uniforms were guarding men cursing and shaking their fists while women and children cried while clinging to one another in fear. The men in uniform held guns which occasionally they pointed at the people they held prisoner.

All this wartime activity must mean construction on the building had ceased. They would be using it to house prisoners now. Beatrice did not recognize the uniform the men wore. Of course she had never made it a priority to study warfare or anything pertaining to the violence of it. Lawrence had been violent enough. she had no urge to see it first hand.

She would dearly have loved to crown one of those uniformed men upon his head for the way they treated those under their care. True they were prisoners but that did not make them any less human. The people they guarded looked like ordinary citizens. What could they or their children have done to anyone to deserve this sort of treatment?

As she watched those men poke and prod those they had captured Beatrice marveled how a little power made ordinary men become someone they would not normally be. In her opinion power destroyed rather than built anything when that power was under the control of a few individuals. Power over her had made Lawrence a monster, or rather power had given him the belief it had been acceptable to use her to satisfy the monsters needs.

When the soldiers would have struck a little girl Beatrice could not stand by any longer. She opened the door ready to go through when someone pulled her roughly backward while clamping a hand over her mouth. For a moment she feared a soldier had come up behind her.

The door closed as silently as it had opened by a gloved hand she could see. This could only be Monsieur Ghost as nothing else happened. Beatrice stomped his boot with little effect as her own boots were far less substantial than his.

Erik had been watching Beatrice from behind his walls. He had promised to not let her come to any harm but the damn woman had less sense than a goose. He had half a notion to leave her to her own devices especially after she tried to cripple him by stomping on his foot.

Erik pulled her through the panel he had just exited so he could grab the fool woman before she brought the whole damn army down around them. He did not feel as if he needed to be gentle. She had brought this down on her own head.

Beatrice did not care for Monsieur Phantom's method of asking for her silence. She could not damage his foot but nothing protected his shins. She gave a mighty backward kick connecting with her heel.

His grunt in her ear sounded quite satisfactory. Once behind the panel it swished silently closed. Erik let the little dervish go as he bent to rub the front portion of his leg. The little hellion could have broken his leg, then where would they be? In hell for sure that's where.

"Damn you woman do you have no sense of self-preservation? What did you think to do? Kick every one of them like a mule until they surrendered their weapons."

"There is no need for mockery Monsieur Ghost. I merely acted on impulse. I did not care for the way they treated the women and the children. I had hoped to create a diversion so some of them might have escaped."

Out of everything the blasted woman said what caught Erik's attention had been her referral to him as Monsieur Ghost. If she thought to rile him she had done her job well. Erik took an angry step toward her then grabbed her wrist with a hand that seemed as if an iron manacle had locked around Beatrice's wrist.

"I have a name woman. Say my name damn you. I am a man, not a ghost. Say my name or I'll…" Erik let the threat drift off as he continued to shake the woman violently. He had lit a few torches so she had a good look at his angry face.

"Stop, please stop." Beatrice in a defensive movement brought her arm over her head. She lowered her head as if bracing against a blow. Her body went limp. If not for him grabbing her with his strong arms around her waist she would have fallen to the floor.

"Erik, please, don't hurt me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Beatrice nearly collapsed under the strain of the fear that gripped her. Memories of other times when she had been shaken and beaten senseless rushed to the forefront of her mind rendering her helpless. She felt sick to the very pit of her stomach.

Erik slowly loosened his grip on the woman, Beatrice. If he demanded she call him by his given name he should do no less for her.

"Beatrice I will not harm you. See, I have let you go." Erik backed a couple of paces away from Beatrice with his hands raised to shoulder level.

He began to speak in his hypnotic tones lulling Beatrice into relaxing. He did not know all he said to her for it did not really matter. What she would hear would be the soothing velvety tones of his voice that could tame the most vicious beast. Twice now he had used this method on her. He began to think he should have used it more often on Christine and to greater effect.

Women were easy prey to Erik's voice. It promised so much without him ever having uttered a word that made any kind of sense. He had used that talent on Christine when she was younger and needed to be reassured. Later he had used it to bring her through the mirror as he led her to his home for the first time. Once again he wished he had thought to use his talents to win his love.

Slowly Beatrice moved her arm only peering underneath her forearm toward where Erik stood. He seemed to be in earnest when he said he would not hurt her although his words before had indicated otherwise.

Erik extended his hand toward her just as he had to Christine those few times he had tried to woo her into his waiting arms.

Beatrice could not say why she put her hand into his. She still felt the fear just waiting to rise again leaving her helpless to defend herself. She wondered where the fearless woman from a few days ago had gone, the one who had vowed never to let another man frighten her.

Gently so he did not startle her, Erik tugged on the hand placed so trustingly in his own. Taking his torch from the sconce on the wall Erik began the trek toward home. He led Beatrice downward in the tunnel glancing back every now and then to be sure she felt safe placing her life into his murderous hands.

Erik led her down a tunnel that connected to the same one he had taken Christine down to his home that first time. This time he did not have his horse waiting. He had not been on a mission to woo the lady only save her from herself.

Devil was resting cozily in his makeshift stall Erik had made for him in one of the alcoves near his home. Devil was as good as any watchdog. The least unfamiliar sound brought a shrill call from the animal. Erik thanked God when the animal had gotten used to the rats. Now instead of raising holy hell Devlin simply stomped any of the beady eyed creatures who got too close to him.

Erik had his second boat waiting in the water. Beatrice seemed to have confiscated his other one for her own. The second boat came in handy when hauling in supplies other than food.

Not knowing if she would scream the building down Erik cautioned her that of necessity he must lift her by placing his hands about her waist. If she tried to step down the boat might tip over. They both remembered her less than graceful boarding and disembarking from the little craft.

She did not speak but merely nodded her head slightly. Her eyes were fastened on his face. Not the masked side so much as the whole of his face. Erik could feel her heart thumping wildly even through his gloves. Her whole body seemed to be shaking.

Her closeness had his heart pumping double time. He paused with her suspended just inches from his own body. It would be so easy to lean forward placing his lips against hers. The temptation to do so nearly overtook Erik's good sense.

He may still love Christine but that did not preclude him from fancying any other women. Propinquity alone would have him dreaming and fantasizing about her, as proven by his dreams since the night she arrived.

Being a normal male with normal desires Erik had found himself attracted to many women. Christine had won his heart but he still admired beauty in all its forms, including the female form.

Beatrice gasped slightly to inhale a breath in surprise at the heat generated just from Erik's hands on her waist. She noted the downward glance of his eyes toward her mouth. Crazy thoughts flitted through her head. Her emotions were on a roller coaster ride. One moment fearing him the next wanting him too...No, she did not want him or any man at the moment. Her mind and body were only confused due to stress.

If it would not seem like an open invitation Beatrice would have licked her lips as they felt dry as a desert. That smacked of provocation to her. She wanted no misunderstandings between them.

She should perhaps have a chat with that part of her that controlled her body's libido. Never one to want any intimacies before it baffled Beatrice why now with this man her inner woman wanted much more than a mere kiss.

Those dreams she had were like nothing Lawrence had ever made her feel. In fact the only thing Lawrence had ever made her feel had been so far removed from what Erik made her feel only with his nearness and the touch of his hands at her waist.

Lawrence's idea of lovemaking had been to crawl into bed with her in total darkness then quickly take his pleasure. Never once had he bothered to try to give Beatrice even a tender kiss to woo some response from her.

She had begun to wonder if all those romantic books she read when she found a private moment had all been just some wild imaginings of the author. Now she suspected there might be something in what the books intimated happened between a man and a woman.

Even after Erik had released her and she took her seat, Beatrice could not look away from him. She looked at him from underneath her lashes as it would not do for him to notice the interest she had taken suddenly in every move he made.

As he poled along Beatrice could not help but notice how much easier he made it look to pole the boat around. The day she had found the pole lying just underneath the little dock Beatrice wished to smack Erik's grinning face for letting her tug the boat along behind her time and time again.

She admired the flexing of the muscles of his forearms. What his clothing hid she could only guess how those muscles would ripple with every stroke of the pole.

Dropping her eyes downward Beatrice noted how the cloth of his trousers followed his legs faithfully. His backside…oh dear Lord, where had her mind gone, thinking such thoughts? They would be for naught anyway as if he made one move to do anything illicit Beatrice felt certain she would scream loud enough to bring the whole opera house down.

Seeing her little alcove just ahead she sighed thankfully. She needed to get away from this very disturbing man. It would be best for both of them to see one another as little as possible.

When Beatrice stepped out of the boat Erik warned, "Do not even think of going back for those prisoners. If you had waited I planned to reconnoiter tonight to see how best to win their release.

For tonight and possibly tomorrow they will suffer no more than a few bumps and bruises. It is later when rations begin to run low and the men begin to eye the women that trouble will really begin.

If you had asked I would have told you I planned to release the prisoners. The fewer people in my opera house the better."

Beatrice would have debated his claim once again to owning the opera house but felt her need to remove him from her close proximity to be paramount to her sanity.

She could not help but notice his eyes going to the pot she had set on the grate above the fire. She had made a pot of stew and left it to simmer all day.

The aroma made her stomach remind her just how empty it felt. Beatrice blushed to the roots of her hair to be so common as to let her hunger be known in that ill-mannered way.

Beatrice tried to ignore the gurgling sound she clearly heard coming from Erik but could not keep the smile from blossoming on her lips. He coughed trying to cover the obvious noise. His cheeks flushed pink as he shuffled his feet. Well at least she was not the only heathen in the catacombs.

She supposed she owed him a bowl of stew and a slice or two of bread. She would sacrifice a bit of the last bread she had. Until she found a way to bake the flour could only be used for crepes and gravies with any success.

Yesterday she had baked a pan of bread over the fire pit using the heaviest iron skillet with a lid. It had not turned out too badly. The smell alone had been worth the effort.

She had hardly gotten the invitation out of her mouth before Erik was accepting with alacrity. She showed him where the pitcher and bowl were that he could use for washing up. Beatrice even handed him a clean towel.

It had not escaped her notice that he had bathed and shaved. He smelled quite masculine without smelling as if he had wallowed with pigs for days in the same clothing.

Tomorrow she may dig out one of her dresses. Not that she wished to impress Erik. It would be for own feminine pride. Christine and Meg had told her a lady did not go anywhere without at least one decent dress. They ended putting in three. Beatrice had found the men's trousers comfortable but wanted to remind herself that she was still feminine.

Erik had been getting tantalizing aromas wafting from Beatrice's direction for the last several days. It had been quite some time since he had a hot meal. Mostly he just ate whatever was close to hand when the need for food arose.

When Beatrice issued her offer to share her meal with him, Erik's pride almost won out over his stomach. The continued empty growl had made the choice easier to make.

The first bite nearly dragged a groan of appreciation from him. He did not want to give her the impression he could not provide meals for himself by letting her know just how appreciative his palate was for food that actually did not taste as if just this side of molding.

Erik used a second slice of bread to wipe every delicious drop of stew from his bowl. When Beatrice shyly offered him another Erik thanked her kindly as he stared greedily at the half full pot. She served him up another hearty bowl along with two more slices of her precious bread.

She had never been one to particularly care for domestic chores but serving Erik as he clearly appreciated her offerings, satisfied some deep seated need inside of her that Beatrice had not even been aware she possessed.

Perhaps she would feel this same emotion if any man had shown her even this small courtesy of enjoying something she had provided by her own hand. Lawrence never thought she had any working brain cells. Because she was a woman and his wife, he had been of the opinion she had to been near imbecilic. If it would not have earned her a slap she would have agreed with him. She had been a trusting imbecile to marry him.

Women were good for one thing and one thing only in his opinion. As far as Lawrence had been concerned Beatrice had even been lacking in any skills to please a man.

When she had at one time told him that perhaps if he showed her what she lacked things would be better she had incurred his wrath. He had taken that as an inference that he had been less than exemplary in his own skills. Beatrice had suffered many days for that perceived insult to Lawrence's manhood.

The more Beatrice watched Erik the more she found to admire in him. He may not be what most would consider acceptable but she began to think any woman would be lucky to gain his interest. He had proven to be a romantic at heart with Christine.

If perchance he had someone to show him the proper way to court a woman Christine may not have been so quick to choose Raoul. As much as she respected and loved Raoul he was still a boy in her eyes. Erik on the other hand she perceived to be all man.

Lawrence had been quite the gentleman in their early relationship. He had impressed Beatrice with his grand gestures. When he had her deep into the relationship that is when he began to change.

It really wasn't a change so much as a revelation. Lawrence she suspected had always had the propensity to be cruel and enjoyed that part of his nature far too much to try to change.

Once Erik had stretched to relieve the tightness of his trouser's waistband, he stood to leave. He thanked Beatrice awkwardly. He had not meant to make such a pig of himself but everything had just been too good to let it pass by without taking as much as she would offer him. When he offered to help clean up she refused. It had been apparant he had no real wish to do the dishes.

Before he left Beatrice asked if he would be going aboveground to survey how best to win the release of the prisoners. Erik had told her that yes, he would be making a journey above once he could be certain most of the guards would be sleeping as they waited to change watch.

Beatrice watched Erik leave making a promise to herself that she would be either going with Erik or following closely behind. Surely two sets of eyes and ears were better than one?

What Beatrice did not know was that Erik alone equaled ten men of normal aptitude. Over the years he had honed many skills, not the least of which was how to survive when the odds were against you. Her "help" may end up hindering Erik this night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**A Shifting of Circumstance**

Beatrice did not wait around for Erik to come for her as she knew that was not his plan. He had categorized her in the same place Lawrence had, the one where they kept useless things. Had she not proven that she could fend for herself? Well perhaps she would not have fared so well if Raoul had not provided so much in the way of necessities.

Still Beatrice had done well making her little alcove comfortable. She had cabinets for her dishes and clothing. Albeit a little rustic as she had used some of the larger crates for storage. She had tied pieces of rope to use as hinges. It would not keep out the most determined of the varmints but so far it had been a deterrent to the little beady eyed creatures.

She had even found a temporary source of fuel. Apparently when Erik's home had been stormed by the mob they had torn everything apart.

Being resourceful Beatrice had gathered everything that had been strewn around the shore. Everything would be used at one time or another. For now the smaller pieces of wood served the purpose of giving her heat as well as a fire to cook and warm water for bathing, cleaning her clothes and cleaning up after meals. Any scraps left out for more than a minute would be set upon as soon as Beatrice turned her back, if not before. Everything had to be kept free of tantalizing morsels of food.

Beatrice carried her candle with her as she stepped into the boat. She rocked back and forth as her steps into the boat tended to be more of a jump. One day she would master the art of climbing into the boat with grace just as Erik did. At least she had not landed in the cold water.

Poling the boat was not an easy thing to do either. Erik made it look effortless. She knew to her cost just how much strength it took to push the boat along even when just carrying herself. Guiding the darn thing had been hit and miss most of the time. Luckily for her she was not out in open water. God only knows where she would end up, likely fish food.

The first few days of using the boat had her muscles feeling as if a fire had been lit inside her upper arms. It hurt if she made any sudden movement. She frowned as she remembered the snickering from where Erik stood watching her every time she came for supplies. If she had not sworn never to harm another soul Erik would have been beamed over the head with his own boat pole.

She bet he knew exactly how painful those days had been for her. He had not offered his help and Beatrice would have died rather than ask for it. Wicked thoughts of cooking something that smelled so tantilizing then let the aroma drift down to his on inlet brought a cheery smile to her lips more than once.

Climbing the now familiar flight of stairs Beatrice made the journey much faster than the time before. She did not feel quite so winded either. All the exercise she had been getting lately had at least built her stamina. If this kept up she have bulging muscles to compete with any man. That thought did not cheer her at all. She would rather stay looking feminine even if there would be no one to appreciate her feminine curves.

After half an hour of waiting Beatrice thought Erik had decided not to come. Opening the door she saw no one in the room. She saw opera house paraphernalia lying around but no people. She wondered where they could have taken the prisoners. Entering the room Beatrice concluded this storage area for whatever reason had not been deemed suitable to house prisoners for a long period of time.

With hands perched on her hips she wondered what the devil she could do now. Not knowing the layout of the building she would become lost within a short time.

Seeing a pile of chalk used to mark actor's places on stage, Beatrice took a few putting them in her pocket. She placed her candle in her back pocket after blowing it out.

After a couple of trips in the dark trying to pole the boat while holding a candle Beatrice had taken to lighting several torches along the way. She tried to keep those burning if she wanted to explore her immediate area.

She wished she could chance doing so now. There was only dim light coming from a gas light at the end of the room. Beatrice spied the door just as she caught sight of the wall lamp. The door opened into a long corridor. Seeing no one Beatrice cautiously stepped out. Staying close to the wall she took out a piece of chalk to make her first mark.

After several corridors revealed not the slightest hint of human occupation other than possessions strewn about in some of the rooms she supposed had once been the dormitories or rooms for the key performers.

Coming to the end of yet another corridor Beatrice heard a soft cry. It sounded like a small kitten. Looking around the corner Beatrice saw a small cat, perhaps four or five months old. Stepping out then bending down Beatrice called, "Here puss puss. Come along now, I won't hurt you. Such a sweet little puss. Where in the world did you come from?"

Upon recalling just how many rooms their were in the opera house and how many rats were surely in residence it would stand to reason the powers that be would deduce the need for cats.

She herself would welcome the little mouse catcher, hopefully soon to be rat catcher. The kitten cautiously stuck its tiny nose out toward her outstretched fingers. Nibbling and licking one digit at a time the kitten began to move closer. Tamara picked up the ball of fluff. Immediately a loud purring emitted from the tiny creature.

Voices coming down the corridor surprised Beatrice so badly she could not seem to move. Locked in place she helplessly listened to several men's voices getting closer and closer by the second. They would be upon her in a matter of seconds.

So quickly she had no time to react, Beatrice was pulled into a storage closet. A familiar leather glove covered her mouth. She felt the tickle of his rapid breath blowing in her ear and along her neck bringing forth several shivers. She closed her eyes which only served to enclose them in an even darker intimacy. She snapped her eyes open but still remained in semi-darkness as only a thin sliver of light shown through a crack in the door frame.

The little kitten as startled as Beatrice had been clawed at Beatrice trying to jump out of her arms. She let the cat go so she could raise her hands to the one cupping her mouth.

Feeling the hand stretched across her middle move distracted Beatrice from her demand to be set free. She tried to find a rational reason for the fluttering in her belly. The pooling warmth at the aperture between her thighs confused as well as caused a strange breathlessness in her. She found it hard to breath.

Feeling fright as well overtaking her Beatrice struggled against the man's detaining arms. Erik whispered harshly in her ear for her to be quiet. He squeezed his hand that rested on her stomach in warning.

Beatrice wanted to fight and claw against the hands holding her but also felt an overwhelming need to melt back into the strong male body behind her. In her experience arms were only meant to inprison so punishment could be metted out.

All she had ever wanted to do when Lawrence held her was escape. Wishing to explore this new plateau of emotion Beatrice leaned back into Erik's strong body closing her eyes as she felt every nerve in her body come alive.

As insane as Beatrice thought this to be she could not help but wish to feel Erik's bared hand on the flesh he now covered with the leather of his glove. Confusing emotions kept her from doing anything to either gain her freedom or take advantage of this mysterious urge to be closer to a man.

Erik's masculine scent permeated around Beatrice filling her with his essence. Lawrence had always either smelled of alcohol, other women, or the overpowering cologne he splashed on lavishly instead of bathing.

Beatrice began to feel as if the walls were closing in on her. All this emotional up and down took its toll. It was all too confusing for her to sort anything out at the moment. Later perhaps in privacy she could pick apart and separate everything she felt while trying to figure out what it all meant.

Erik had only wanted to quiet Beatrice before those soldiers came upon her. She would end up a prisoner herself it she were not more careful.

Lowering his head Erik inhaled her sweet aura. Sensations that started in his nose traveled quickly to other parts of his body.

He flexed his fingers lying across her flat stomach. The cloth of the man's shirt she wore gaped open as buttons pulled through the holes as Erik's grip threatened to rip the fabric.

Shifting just a little he aligned his front precisely to her back. Not even aware of what he did Erik lowered his head so his lips grazed along her smooth neck. If she had said one word in protest or not tilted her head giving him better access to her neck, Erik would have stopped.

When he only heard the inhalation of her breath, Erik tentatively slipped his tongue between his lips so he might have a taste of what she clearly offered. Christine's kisses had been wonderful and he cherished every second of their two shared exchanges but they had left Erik wanting more. Erik craved much more.

Hearing a low moaning coming from Beatrice Erik's body acted without his knowledge as he pressed himself into her backside undulating his hips against her.

Such heated desire began to build inside Erik. Nothing had ever gripped him quite like pressing his manhood against a woman's body. If she should allow him to the ultimate closeness Erik felt he might die from the sheer ecstasy.

He needed to feel her bare skin underneath his hands. He ripped off his gloves carelessly tossing them aside. Ripping aside her shirt Erik jabbed his hand inside to feel the mound of flesh beneath. He felt the budding of the nipple against his palm.

"Erik please." Beatrice did not know if she wished for him to stop or continue. When he had ripped the front of her shirt all her old fears came back sending her crashing back to earth from a never before felt passion.

Erik roughly turned her around. By now all he could think of was joining his body to hers. Gentleness and persuasion had been tossed by the wayside as the intensity of what he felt built to a nearly explosive level.

Dragging her down onto a pile of drop cloths, Erik covered her body with his own. He found his breathing had become labored as the blood coursed through his body at an ever increasing rate. His trousers felt as if they might split at the seams as his arousal throbbed and pulsed at the confining cloth.

Never having experienced this level of intimacy with a woman Erik lost all control. He could not stop the tide once it began. Groaning against her as he buried his face in her neck Erik expelled his seed inside his trousers.

Gasping harshly for breath Erik rolled away in shame after his mind comprehended precisely what had occurred. God what had he done? He was a failure. Everyone had been right. He was not a man. He could not even make love to a woman properly. Would not a normal man at least have released himself from his trousers before seeking his pleasure?

He dare not look at Beatrice. At least she could not clearly she the shame on his face just as he could not see the disgust and pity on her face. She being an experienced woman would know what had happened to him. Laying his arm across his face in despair Erik felt if ever there was a good time to die right at this moment would be the opportune moment to save him from further humiliation.

What sort of man must she think him, if indeed she thought him a man at all? Now that the first flush of desire had been appeased Erik wished he had paid more attention to her needs and less to his own. How she must pity the poor creature he was. His first intimate experience with a woman and he had failed dismally.

He could be grateful that he and Christine had not been intimate as his ineptitude would have given her more proof that he was less of a man than de Chagny. The boy would know his way around a woman. With his face he had more than likely become a man in his early years.

Erik could feel the panic rising in him. He must get away before she witnessed his pitiful sobbing. He had done enough to show her his inadequacies, there would be no need for further demonstrations that he was less than other men.

Beatrice had not moved from where Erik left her. All her old fears had her locked in memories of another man taking his pleasure without any consideration for her feelings. She had once again closed her eyes expecting to feel the hurtful blows at any moment.

The difference she would later recall had been Erik did not once raise his had strike her. He had not torn her clothes from her calling her such names as no man should call a woman. He had been crude and perhaps selfish but not cruel.

She could not imagine what had stopped him from continuing. For all Beatrice had been married and intimate she still was in reality far too innocent to know when a man had ejaculated prematurely without need for a warm womanly vessel to welcome his seed.

The gentle rasp of a tongue on her fingertips reminded her of the kitten. The little ball of grey fluff batted at her fingers.

Beatrice hesitated moving as with Lawrence he would not let her leave until he had taken his pleasure several times in many different ways. To disobey his command to lie still earned her sever punishment.

Only moving her head a little Beatrice looked toward Erik's prone figure. The soft sounds coming from him sounded like sobs. His shoulders shook as the silent sobs wracked his body. She felt sure she misinterpreted what was actually happening. The light such as it was did little to let her see anything further than her nose. Cautiously she leaned in closer.

She could see tears trickling down from underneath his arm. She could only imagine he felt sorry now that the deed had been done or attempted and he regretted his part in their failed attempt at intimacy. She felt a little confused as to what had actually happened. His trousers were still buttoned. She blushed in comprehension when she saw the telltale wet spot on the fly of his trousers.

Beatrice knew that for a man this could be humiliating. When Lawrence had been to one of those clubs where women removed their clothing he would come home to her randy as any stallion with a corral of mares.

He would demand she lie down on whatever flat surface would be at hand. Lying down on top of her Lawrence would fumble with the buttons at his fly. Grinding his hips against her brought him to his moment of pleasure before he had even removed that thing between his legs from his trousers.

Then he would proceed to rant about how Beatrice was not a real woman. It was her fault. A real woman would know how to please a man. She would help him seek his pleasure not lie beneath him like a block of wood.

From there his rage would build and he would begin to hit her. This would bring on his second arousal quickly. Not wanting a repeat performance Beatrice would unbutton his fly and remove the instrument of her torture.

Closing her eyes Beatrice pulled the kitten onto her chest. How could they face one another after what had happened to him and what he had nearly done to her?

Any desire she had been feeling had long since left her. Only dread of what would come next filled her mind. She heard a groan as Erik stood abruptly. Without glancing in her direction Erik went to the back wall of the small room walking through an opening that seemed to appear as if by magic.

She continued to lay for a bit longer wanting to be sure he did not come back in to see her leaving. In her experience that would be reason enough for whatever punishment Lawrence deemed fit for her crime.

When he did not come back Beatrice stood as she hugged her new friend closely to her chest. Looking at the spot where Erik had disappeared Beatrice could find nothing that looked as if it would open any part of the wall. Well she would just go back the way she came. Had she not had the forethought to mark her way?

Beatrice walked back slowly replaying what had happened in her mind. She could take partial blame for what happened. Erik may have heeded her request to stop if she had found the courage to utter it.

She recalled those strange stirrings Erik's touch had brought out in her. She wondered if he had touched her tenderly, kissed her gently, and encouraged her participation if things might have gone differently.

Regardless of what her body felt, Beatrice did not think she was ready for any type of intimacy with a man. She may never be ready. Time would perhaps heal her wounds.

She did not wish to spend her life alone even after having experienced the horror of her life with Lawrence. In her mind she knew not all men would behave as he had. Raoul was the perfect example of a gentle lover. Christine had intimated such when they discussed Beatrice's marriage and the ordeal of Lawrence's cruelty.

Now she began to recall other things Christine had told her about Erik. She had hinted about his lack of experience with a woman. Indeed she had lead Beatrice to believe the man to be a virgin. How that could be at his age Beatrice could not imagine. With all the willing women in the opera house surely there would have been a few to see what an attractive man Erik really was?

Even Beatrice could acknowledge his appeal. The reaction of her body to his had not been imagined or something she pretended to avoid abuse. He had made her feel such wonderful things even as they confused and frightened her.

She wished to explore those new stirrings at some point. If not Erik, then some other man. She needed time to come to terms with all her inner turmoil, time to heal mentally and physically. Thinking about the sobs she had heard coming from Erik she had little doubt he needed to heal as well.

If she could conquer her fears then she might be ready to accept the advances of a man without turning into a frightened, mindless and unresponsive block of wood as Lawrence referred to her often in the short time they were together.

She must give herself time before opening herself to a man again. She would be stronger this time. She would be an equal participant in what would happen. Erik had proven she could still find a man attractive even if she could not bring herself to consummate a relationship.

Feeling much more assured about how to proceed, Beatrice decided she would give Erik a few days then approach him to see if they could move past what had happened. Not in an intimate way but perhaps as friends.

The underground isolation would be much more tolerable if one had at least one other person to relieve the loneliness.

Feeling the vibrating purr Beatrice stroked the kitten. Well she would not be so alone now. She considered several names for the kitten which she discovered to be female. In the end she settled on calling the kitten Hummer as a whimsical moment overtook Beatrice. The little kitten sounded somewhat like one of those little hummingbirds Beatrice used to love to watch in the garden during the spring and summer months.

Some sort of box would have to be found so the kitten could learn where the kitty toilet was. Beatrice would simply clean the box and empty the contents when she emptied her own chamber pot. The sewer canals emptied into a reservoir at the end of one of the tunnels. She had trailed that tunnel to a grate which everything spilled out onto the other side eventually leading to the Seine she imagined.

France had come a long way in the modernization of sewage management. Years ago the streets had been filled with the stench of waste as everyone dumped raw sewage out their very windows into the streets below.

Beatrice missed her flushing toilet as well as the hot and cold running water for bathing. She longed for a bath. She had noticed Erik had a large metal tub. Perhaps she might steal a quick bath one day when she could catch him away from his lair.

Beatrice thought Madame Giry and Christine had aptly called Erik's living space a lair as he did seem to be buried like some animal in its hole. Now she had joined him. She preferred to call her own living space her little nest.

A few days cooling off period should be enough for Beatrice to wait before she made any gesture toward Erik. If she went with her hand outstretched holding perhaps an apple pie as well as a nice soup, maybe he would not bite her head off. At least she hoped he wouldn't.

**A/N: Hope this moving along at a nice pace. Don't want to completely jump the gun before they have time to learn about each other. Men being men though sex is not something that needs any knowledge of the other to perform other than the fact of being the sex they prefer. I know that is sexist so I will include a certain number of women in that same category. We women can be sexual beings too.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am so pleased with the continued reviewers who give me words of encouragement. For their loyalty I am posting this chapter instead of waiting a couple of days. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Eight**

**Slowly, Gently**

Upon returning to his hated home Erik began a few minutes of destruction as his anger overtook him. He could not say who or what angered him more. Whether Beatrice earned most of it or not his furnishings took the brunt of his anger.

He cursed himself for his inadequacies. Why did not men have the knowledge to woo women from birth? God created Eve for Adam then left them to muck about on their own. Disaster had been inevitable.

Erik sobbed out his misery, cursing God for giving him this miserable life. If he had to be this way, why did God not create a mate for him, one who could bear to look at him as well as tolerate and welcome his monstrous touch?

He had thought Beatrice welcomed him. Perhaps that had only been his insanity returning trying to convince his sick mind a woman actually wanted him.

All those years of yearning to be with a woman in the most intimate of moments now his dreams lay at his feet smashed beyond repair. He had failed his test of manhood.

There would never be anyone for him. Christine had shown him that if nothing else. His life had been meant to be lived in loneliness, secluded from the rest of normal society. He belonged here in this damp, dark and dismal place. Had not destiny or fate's cruel hand led Madame to the fair that night just so she could **_save_** him?

Erik began to blame Beatrice in a twisted way for the attraction he felt for her. He did not care that this blame had no justification. He convinced himself she had done something to bring his notice to her.

Women knew how to gain a man's notice from the cradle. Perhaps Beatrice's husband had caught her making eyes at some other man. That was a reason for his abuse but not an excuse for the level he had taken her punishment.

It was always easier to place blame for our own shortcomings on another's shoulders deserving of blame or not. By the time Erik had left a wake of destruction throughout his home, he had created this image of Beatrice as some sort of Jezebel who had tempted and teased him to act as he did. He could live more easily with what happened by shifting the blame for his failure to her.

Beatrice went to bed that night thinking how she might begin to pave the way for some sort of cordiality between her and Erik. Erik grumpily settled with thoughts of how he might exact revenge upon the siren who had led him to shaming himself in such a degrading and humiliating manner. She would pay. Yes by God she would pay dearly.

The next few days of quiet gave Beatrice enough time to examine the encounter with Erik. Her mind readily showed her pictures of them entwined in the most intimate act between women and men. She blushed furiously but refused to close her mind to them. If she ever wanted intimacy with a man she needed to know that she could accept his advances.

Trying to imagine other men doing to her what Erik had done proved a fruitless endeavor. Every man she thought of eventually turned into Erik's broodingly handsome face.

Her imagination filled in the blanks of what she did not know about Erik. She had not seen him unclothed so could not say what he looked like in reality but her mind let her see him nonetheless.

Remembering the hard bulge pressed against her Beatrice would guess Erik to be above average in size as far as his manhood was concerned. He had well defined muscles in the places he had pressed against her softer form. To be able to traverse all the stairs and tunnels without becoming winded he must be in splendid physical shape.

She could well imagine the power of his thrusting hips between her thighs. Without any proof to the contrary Beatrice knew beyond a shadow of a doubt once Erik had been schooled in the ways to please a woman he would be a devastating lover.

Quickly Beatrice placed her hands on her cheeks as if to hide the bloom flushing them bright red. Wanting to examine everything in depth she would not let her reticence keep her from going forward. If ever she were to think of intimacy in normal terms she must face all that had happened to her and place the blame clearly where it belonged. Not on every man she met for sure. The blame belonged with Lawrence for her skewed look at intimacy and men.

Beatrice determinedly carried on with her mental exploration of Erik even though she felt she might go up in flames. Between being embarrassed for having such sensual imaginings and her body's reaction to them Beatrice thought she could heat half of Paris.

Well at least now she could discount Lawrence's claim that she had not a sensual bone in her body. Erik had certainly made her body come alive with very little effort. At first she had almost enjoyed his touch. It had only been later as horrible memories of all the times Lawrence had lain on top of her came to her that she had lost any fledgling lustful emotions.

She could not imagine what Erik would be like if ever he mastered the art of lovemaking. He would have women groveling at his feet begging for a moment of his time. She felt there was more passion in him than even he knew. He like her just needed to learn how to express it in a positive way and be able to endure letting another learn intimate details about their mate without fear of censure or ridicule.

Beatrice thumped her pillow not liking the image of Erik surrounded by a bevy of beauties willing to do whatever he asked of them. Jealousy was a new emotion for Beatrice. Lord knows she had never felt it for her own unfaithful husband.

For all she had been married and been taken by her husband many times, Beatrice did not ever think of their union as having been one of true intimacy. Intimacy implied a sharing on a level the eye could not see but the heart and mind would know.

She could not help thinking that she had shared more intimate moments with Erik is a few short weeks than she had with Lawrence in almost a year, six of those months having been spent in a marital union.

The more Beatrice discovered about Erik the more she came to understand how Christine felt about him. There could be no mistaking the desire Christine felt for Erik when she spoke of him. Not many women could withstand Erik's sensual nature. God help womankind if ever Erik discovered his attraction to the opposite sex.

Beatrice smiled as picture after picture of Erik in the role of romantic heroes flashed across her closed eyelids. He would make a magnificent rescuer of damsels in distress. He would slay the dragon then climb the castle wall to rescue the fair maiden. Of course he would have to work on his Prince Charming skills in order to win the lady's hand. His manners concerning company left a lot to be desired.

Just before she fell asleep Beatrice thought 'It wouldn't be so bad really to have Erik initiate me into the world of intimacy.' Little Hummer curled up beside her new mistrress remembering strong hands holding her. Not the unkind hands or boots of some of the soldiers, but gentle caring hands. She purred contentedly until both she and her new mistress fell deeply asleep.

**A/N: It's a little short but I'll post another chapter tomorrow to make up for that. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Not as many reviews as I had hoped for but then at least I got a few. This is a nice long chapter. Enjoy and most assuredly review. **

**Chapter Nine**

**Making Amends**

Beatrice gave Eik a few days to work out his problem just as she had gone over and over everything that had taken place. Neither of them were any genius when it came to intimacy. Both had sustained damage from those they had loved and trusted. In those days when she and Erik tiptoed around one another the air fairly crackled with repressed desires.

Hummer gave solace to Beatrice. The antics of the kitten amused her at the same time it aloud her focus to leave troubling thoughts for a short time. Erik had begun to play his organ at all hours of the day and night. For a pot of tea she would thump him a good one then thump the organ as well. When he picked out tunes on his violin she did not mind so much. The sounds did not vibrate so badly it made the crockery rattle.

She concluded they both had an equal part in this mess they were in. They need not discuss anything just yet. First they must find some common ground so they could relate to one another calmly without human desires overruling common sense. Having sexual tention between the two of them would be like putting a keg of gunpowder in the middle of the room and giving both of them a lit match.

Neither one appeared to be ready for anything remotely close to an intimate relationship. They both had so much baggage they must unload before beginning anything of a personal nature. Erik had been an emotional wreck after only simulating the intimate act. As for herself, Beatrice had felt a confusion of emotions. Frightened out of her wits had been the uppermost emotion at first.

She had even felt some lustful yearnings building up. Before she could adjust to the situation Erik had gone all tempestuous lustful man on her. If he had perhaps approached a little more slowly that may have given her time to get comfortable with him. They were both stuck in an untenable situation. If they worked together they may find a way to cohabitate companionably. If she could work out her issues with men in general things might be taken to the next level.

Beatrice did not rule out the possibility altogether. She could still recall those strange sensations Erik had caused in her body. They had been unknown and frightening but at the same time she had wanted more. With time perhaps they might be able to help one another with this problem of intimacy that plagued them both.

For now Beatrice would move slowly. Her plan for today was to surprise Erik with an apple pie and a pot of vegetable soup. She had no wine so it would be either water,tea or coffee. Perhaps she might take a bit of coffee along with the tea just in case Erik preferred coffee over tea. She liked coffee early in the morning then switched to hot sweet tea the rest of the day.

If she went and presented him with a fait accompli surely he would not object to sharing a meal with her. They could begin as if this was their first meeting. The worst he could do would be to shuck her and the food into the lake. Maybe if she brought Hummer along he would be less inclined to act beastly. She could handle the cold water should he feel so inclined to give her a bath in the lake.

At least she felt pretty sure that would be all he would do. Christine and Antoinette had both told her time and time again he had not harmed a woman. Meg had even added her little bit of support on the matter. Even Raoul had claimed never to have heard of any kidnappings by Erik other than Christine's.

Clearly Erik had suffered an unbearable life thus far. Would not two lost souls be able to come together offering comfort? Misery loves company. If that saying had any validity then she and Erik should get on like a house on fire. Two more miserable people she could not recall. For all he claimed to want his solitude Beatrice had a feeling he wanted to alone no more than she did. Her only requirement would be people around her who would never lay a cruel hand on her.

She had not one clue how to go about attracting a man. Erik would be a little resistant to any overture from her as he would still be feeling his confidence had taken a set down. Men tended to take such things to heart. Their very manhood would be defined by their prowess among other men. Women too would gossip about a man whose prowess seemed exemplary or even the opposite.

If anyone knew about ones confidence being trampled in the dirt it would be Beatrice. Lawrence had upbraided her often enough. He had left her with no sense of having any womanly charms at all. According to him he could get a better response from the dead. His disparagments had in the beginning hurt her very much. Later when her eyes began to see the truth she had let his words enter deaf ears. Of course by then the damage had already been done. Her sefl-esteem had bit the dust so to speak.

Erik must still feel the pain of Christine's loss as well. According to Antoinette Christine had been the only woman Erik had ever loved. She had been the only woman he had shown any romantic interest in of any kind. If all she had heard had any truth to it then Erik had never had any other female he could see in the light of a lover other than Christine.

He would not venture into a liaison with anyone in the opera house in case of rejection. Meg had been placed off limits. Antoinette had been more of a mother or sister figure.

Christine, having such a beautiful voice as well as being of a sweet nature, Erik could not help but fall in love with her once she began to mature. Christine had a beautiful face as well as a beautiful soul. Raoul should count himself lucky Erik had gone a little crazy or Christine may well have found it very hard to resist Erik's advances.

Catching a look at herself in the mirror Beatrice could hardly believe the person reflected back at her was really her. The men's clothing hung loosely upon her small frame. Her hair although brushed daily had not been washed for several days. When had this unkempt woman come about?

Looking down at her hands she almost wept. Her hands and hair had been two of her most attractive features. Now her hands hand small cuts, bruises and calluses had begun to form on the palms of her hands from all the poling she had done. Seeing the chipped and splitting nails she almost cried out loud.

She had managed to bring a jar of lotion with her but it would not last long. Soon the skin on her hands would begin to dry and crack from all the clothes washing and dishes. Once she had nothng to wash her hair but water it would lose its shine. Her hair woudl clump together from the oil. She'd look a slovenly mess. Would Erik even find her presentable as an intimate partner once everything started to go downhhill?

Hummer rubbed against her leg wanting attention. Tickling the little lady under her chin Beatrice thought she might take Hummer with her the next time she went to Erik's. Surely he could not resist such a cute and cuddly little thing? He himself did not have a cat which seemed odd to Beatrice.

Would not one come in handy where rats and mice abounded? She knew for certain if it had been her down here all alone that either a dog or cat would be making their home with her.

Cats she considered to be a necessity as well as companionable. Dogs could afford protection as well as giving warnings of intruders. A cat she thought more suitable in her current surroundings.

Beatrice heated water so she could refresh herself. She had taken out her dress and made sure it was not too unsightly from having been crammed into the case with all the other necessities women needed as well as all her newly acquired men's garments.

Taking pains with her hair, Beatrice brushed it until it crackled. It had taken two trips fetching and heating water just to wash her hair. All this trouble darn well better gain some little bit of appreciation from Monsieur Opera Ghost.

She may well be tempted to dump the soup in his lap if he at least could not show he noticed how much effort she put into presenting him with what she hoped would be a pleasant sight. She couldn't hope to compete with Christine and really had no wish to do so. Beatrice hoped he would come to regard her for her own unique qualities.

The pie she baked in the skillet turned out rather well until she had to remove it from the skillet so she could put the soup on to simmer. The mess that landed in the plate did not resemble a pie so much as something along the lines of an apple crumble. Well perhaps he would overlook the presentation when he tasted her offering. She had sampled it herself not wanting to have him gag if it tasted horrible. Blessedly it tasted better than it looked.

Loading everything into the boat was no easy task. She apparently would never be one who gained their seafaring legs. Her balance left much to be desired as the boat rocked from side to side every time she stepped aboard. Hummer apparantly liked the water even less than she did for the kitten jumped up digging her claws into the skirt of her dress.

Although poling along had gotten easier she still did trust that she would not upend the boat so she could not relax while the boat glided along the top of the water. Steering had become easier if she gave her full concentration to that and nothing else.

Arriving at Erik's home, Beatrice saw him working on what looked like his table. It had suffered some damage. Glancing around she noted other items turned upside down or laying on the stones near the lakeshore. No inclement weather had visited her inlet. This mess had the earmarks of a man's temper, a very unrstrained one to boot.

She supposed Erik had one of his temper tantrums or more likely a full out raging session by the looks of things. Everyone had warned her that Erik had such rage boiling just below the surface and it did not take much to have it spewing outward destroying all in its path. She made a mental note to steer clear of him if he showed any hint of displeasure.

Beatrice almost turned tail and poled herself back to the safety of her own little underground warren when Erik turned to face her. Bolstering her resolve to see this through, she bent to pick up the small crate she had used to pack the meal she had prepared. As soon as the boat had come close to shore Hummer had jumped ship happy to be on solid ground.

If they could make it through this meal without anyone coming to harm there might be hope for them to come to some understanding. Just what exactly Beatrice wished for it to entail she had not worked out as of yet.

She knew eventually that sharing intimacies was a part of her plan. If she could present it to him as a learning experience for the both of them maybe that would lesson his anxiety about what had happened. Men she knew tended to be overly sensitive about matters concerning their libido and what women thought of their talents in the bedroom.

Erik felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in warning. It could only be one person. He dropped his head down to his chest in frustration. Did the woman not have sense enough to leave well enough alone? He did not know if he could bear facing her just yet if ever.

Did she intend to come so she might rub his face in his failure as a lover? Perhaps she came to taunt and tempt him, play with the monsters emotions, watch him fail yet again to stay the distance. If that was her game she would get far more than she bargained for. To poke at the prowling tiger would prove dangerous for her.

His first little taste of what the joys of joining with a woman could be had only wetted his appetite. The last few days despite coming to the resolution not to get anywhere near that woman, Erik now felt all that steadfast resolve melting away as if it had never been.

The surge of blood to his hard flesh stirred all those desires to enter where he had never been allowed to venture before.

He took a step toward her. He stopped abruptly as he noticed his less than fresh state. Damn if the woman must come to irritate him why could it not at least be when he looked somewhat presentable? He cursed roundly when he remember his mask and wig had been tossed aside when both ha begun to itch and irritate his flesh.

He had not bothered to shave or bathe the last few days as he had to mend all that he had broken. When Erik had expended all that fiery temper he had been greeted with the devastation left in its wake. He had destroyed pretty much all of his furniture during the time he had lost all control.

He could not stop the letting out of the built up anger until the black cloud had lifted from his mind. It had always been that way. Something would set him off then something inside snapped leaving him with only one goal, to expel as much of the rage as he possibly could in as short a time as possible.

Angrily he looked around for something to cover his atrosity of a face. Nothing came to hand so she could damn well put up with how he looked or leave. His money he placed firmly on her being so disgusted she would leave hastily. He couldn't honestly say that thought brought him any satisfaction.

"What do you want now? Have you come to gloat over my failure as a man? Tempt me so I might entertain you once again? I warn you, such endeavors place you in danger. I will not let anyone mock or degrade me again. If you come into my domain then let the consequences be on your head."

As he spoke Erik had been advancing on Beatrice even as she backed up toward the water. The familiar fear gripped her nearly paralyzing every muscle in place. She could feel the pounding of her heart as it shook her chest as if it too wished to escape.

When Beatrice felt the bow of the boat hit the back of her leg she suddenly stopped. She felt the damp penetration of the waters edge licking at the hem of her dress. Anger began to roil inside of her. She would not let another man cow her. She would be strong.

In some far off corner of reason in her mind, Beatrice knew his anger had more to do with embarrassment and the fact that he thought she had come to belittle him. Never would she do anything so hateful. Did she not remember her own humiliation when Lawrence pointed out her shortcomings then proceeded to the nearest willing woman to seek what his wife could not give him?

Erik acted like a wounded animal. When hurt, animals tend to strike out at any helping hand perceiving it as a threat or the deliverer of more of the same. She could not help but compare her reaction to Erik's reaction to her.

They both had been deeply wounded and acted accordingly. They sought to protect themselves in the only ways they knew how. Beatrice had at last taken the stand that she would do all she could to heal herself. She'd not live out her life afraid of a man's touch. What sort of life would it be to always be alone? That life suited some people but Beatrice knew she could never be one of them.

Once Erik knew the truth of things would he not be a little less belligerent? Taking her life in her hands Beatrice decided to ignore Erik's off-putting welcome. Calling to Hummer Beatrice took her basket and sidestepped around Erik's body which seemed poised for attack.

"I brought dinner. I made more than enough for two. Who else would I have to share it with? Little Hummer eats very sparingly at the moment."

Hummer? Erik looked stunned as he watched Beatrice walk past him seemingly without a care in the world. The little fluff ball that trailed behind could not have surprised him more if some creature from a fairy tale had come to life before his very eyes.

A cat? The woman had brought an animal into his domain without so much as a by your leave? What next? Would he one day find a circus parading through his home on its way to entertain whoever else had taken up residence in his once private domain?

Beatrice looked around for a place where they might dine. The table had suffered damage at one end. It looked to be much shorter in length than it had the last time she had seen it. She could only shudder to think of the phenomenal strength it would take to split a table in half. It had been repaired but sat upended clamped together. She could smell the strong scent of some adhesive.

Opting to use the little table in the corner Beatrice removed the lamp to scoot it to the middle of the room. Turning to Erik she said, "If you would like to wash up while I get things set out, we can eat when you are ready."

Erik could not find one thing to say that would be appropriate to say in the presence of a lady. Many phrases tumbled around in his head. His stomach having taken notice of flavorful food in the offing growled in warning if he so much as protested wanting one bite of that aromatic splendor.

Having tasted her cooking before Erik could not bring himself to dine on wine, cheese and stale bread one more night. If that made him weak willed so be it. A man needed sustenance to live did he not?

Beatrice felt her eyes drawn in Erik's direction more times than she cared to admit. He had gone behind a screen to wash. She had felt relieved not to be faced with a half naked man with water cascading down over tantalizing skin. She did not think she was ready for that quite yet.

A minute later she found herself to be proved wrong as she got a glimpse of Erik's shirtless body in a mirror opposite from where he stood splashing water over his hair, face and neck. The image reflected was just as disturbing as Beatrice had known it would be, bt for different reasons than she imagined.

He had slid off his shirt to let it hand from his trouser's waistband. His glorious back caught and held her attention for a good minute or two. Mesmerized her eyes followed the path his hands took over his body. She found herself wanting it to be her hands on his naked skin.

Lawrence had led a sedentary life therefore he had not been a man of muscle. She could not help but compare Erik's rather nicely toned muscles to her late husbands.

She felt a pang of guilt for staring at one man speculating how it would feel to explore those smooth plains and valleys which made up Erik's back. The many crisscrossing scars did not detract from the symmetry of his well developed physique.

Turning away with heated cheeks, Beatrice set her mind to laying out the food. It would not do to be caught ogling the man after their last encounter. _**A little at a time Beatrice. A little at a time. **_

She did not know if that reassurance had been for her benefit or Erik's. Neither would be ready to jump into any kind of relationship. Erik being a man of course would jump at the chance to be with a willing woman. Knowing his limited experience his eagerness would be understandable. It hurt her pride that he had not made any obvious indication he had noted the difference in her appearance. Would it have hurt him to set aside his anger for one moment to tell her she did not look like a woman of the streets?

Beatrice may not expect love from a man she became intimate with but she would at least like to know the man had some kind regard for her. Having made her best effort to look presentable she had no idea what more she could do to gain his interest. She had not expected any outlandish declarations but a simple "You look very nice tonight Beatrice" would have gone a long way to soothing her pride.

At the moment Erik seemed far too hurt by Christine to feel anything but distrust for another member of the female sex. Loving her deeply still would make it hard to give another woman the love she deserved if that is what she expected. Beatrice did not expect him to love her. If he could at least come to a point where she did not drive him to anger that would be a step in the right direction.

Such love as Erik had shown for Christine did not die over the span of a few short months. Perhaps it would never be totally driven from his heart. If Beatrice could accept that then all would be well. She was not certain if she could ever let a man have such control over her as a husband would have. Most men, at least those she knew were little despots. Raoul had been the exception in her limited knowledge of the beasts known as men.

Beatrice had gone about socially. What she had observed between those men and women had not impressed her as being of any substance. It had seemed to her to be about bringing families of wealth and power together so they might have more of the same. Love rarely had anything to do with matches made across a dinner table or in a drawing room between two heads of a family.

Raoul had been lucky in that his father had given him much of his inheritance at an early age and had not been keen on finding Raoul a suitable wife. Christine suited Raoul in every way as far as Beatrice could tell. Even their disagreements were more spats instigated she often thought just so they could quickly move on to the making up at the end of a disagreement.

Erik's reaching for a towel to dry himself had Beatrice turning hastily away. How humiliating it would be to have Erik catch her ogling him as if he were the meal she anticipated devouring. Now at least she knew she could find a man attractive and appreciate him as any other woman would.

Contrary to what they both expected, once they got over the awkward stage of stilted conversation things seemed to flow more naturally. She enquired if he had taken any further steps to free the prisoners. She had hesitated to bring this into the conversation but felt that the less they had to tiptoe around the less likely one of them would step on a mine during innocent exchanges. The least possibility for explosions of temper the better.

Erik hadn't seemed to mind discussing that subject. In fact from his casual response one would never guess he had suffered one of men's greatest blows to their ego. A few cautious strokes would go a long way in her bid to win him over. She encouraged him to tell her everything that had taken place.

Beatrice could not keep the astonishment from her face or voice when she marveled how Erik had been able to arrange the release of all those people. There had to have been around twenty or thirty pisoners. He had told her that would be his little secret when she inquired how he accomlished such a feat. Since she could not be trusted not to try a rescue another time he would keep the details to himself.

She had pretended to take offence. Her less than vehement protest had actually brought what Beatrice thought was the beginning of a smile to Erik's lips. She could not be certain as it had disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.

She complimented Erik on his craftsmanship as she pointed out different pieces of furniture he had placed strategically around his living space. Noticing all the carpenter's tools she guessed Erik had made most if not all of it. It would be hard for him to cart down large pieces of furniture without help. She admired his ability to make this simple grotto come alive as he created his new rooms adding little touches here and there. Beatrice soon became aware that Erik was a very complex and accomplished man.

Encouraged by her interest Erik proudly showed her around. As she continued to bolster his ego Beatrice could not help but take note that Erik's shoulders drew back as his posture seemed to take on a regal bearing.

Hoping not to encroach on anything too sensitive Beatrice asked how he had managed down here for so long without direct contact with the outside world. She intimated how clever she thought he must be to have made this his home unknown to all for so many years without making any references to his loss of sanity during his pursuit of Christine.

Once they had seated themselves in a pair of comfortable chairs Hummer took up residence on Erik's lap. At first he had stiffened when the kitten had climbed his trouser leg then promptly twirled about a couple of turns before lying down to begin purring contentedly.

Erik had never had much to do with any animal other than horses. Tentatively at first Erik ran a finger down over the fluffy fur on the kittens back. He was rewarded with a raspy lick on his finger. He could not help but smile at the gesture.

As he and Beatrice continued to discuss many different topics Erik stroked the kitten curled in is lap with more confident strokes. He found it quite soothing to be able to run his hand over the fur without fearing a reprisal of some sort. Touching and being touched had never brought him anything but sorrow.

When Beatrice yawned widely she knew it was time to end their pleasant evening. Everything had gone much better than she could have hoped. Ignoring his first irritated response had been the best way to go. The evening had progressed quite well. It gave Erik something to think about other than how miserable he was without Christine in his life.

Erik felt a strange pang as he watched Beatrice leaving. It wasn't as strong as what he felt when Christine had left but it did seem to be a similar emotion.

Never could Erik recall sitting across the table from a woman while holding a normal conversation. To sit by the fire as they conversed with the cat settled peacefully in his lap presented a picture of contented domesticity in his mind.

Would that be how he and Christine would have spent an evening if they had not parted? Deeply he felt the gut wrenching stabs at the thought of what might have been.

It wasn't fair for him to denigrate what Beatrice had given him by putting Christine in the place of Beatrice. He could not help how he felt. He had longed for Christine so long it had become second nature to have his mind connecting everything around him to little snippets of time he had spent with her.

For all the years he had been Christine's guide and musical guardian Erik had really not come to know her well at all. He had built an imaginary image of her over time. No woman could be expected to live up to the perfection Erik had placed on Christine's young shoulders. He certainly had not been prepared for her lustful encounters with Raoul nor her loss of her innocence during the time Raoul had spirited her away just before the beginning of rehearsals for Don Juan Triumphant.

Erik had given Christine too much responsibility for his happiness. All his energies had been focused solely on her. He had not given himself the opportunity to have found anyone else to give all his passion to. If he had left the door open perhaps someone would have given him some encouragement to make an approach as normal men did.

Shaking his head at such foolish speculation Erik scoffed at the idea a woman would let him within a mile of her for more than conversation. It would take a special woman to be able to handle the devastation under his mask. Those women were few and far between. Long after Beatrice left it did occur to him that not only had she tolerated his bare face but he had worn no wig either. All his shame had been laid bare for her to see. Not so much as a gasp had come from her.

In his lifetime he had probably only encountered less than the number of fingers on one hand the number of women who could bear to look at him. Beatrice…well Beatrice had not seen him at his worst. She had a glimpse of that monster that lurked just underneath the surface. Erik's face was not the sum total of his monstrous persona, but thus far it had been all Beatrice had seen of him.

He went to bed thinking of the surprisingly pleasant evening he had just spent with a woman. No threats, no kidnapping. No screams of horror or demands to be let go.

He wondered if he dared let himself believe things could go beyond a mere conversation. Even if it could with his heart still entwined with tendrils from Christine's memories locked inside his heart, would being with a woman be anything more than purely carnal gratification?

Just before sleep claimed him Erik had the idea that sexual pleasures without love would at least be better than never knowing those joys of the flesh at all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**Under Siege**

The following months were the worst Erik or Beatrice could remember experiencing. Paris was under fire on a daily basis. Foreign troops had come in arresting anyone who opposed them. Those who overthrew the government had declared Paris to be under their rule. In these desparate times citizen had been pitted against citizen. No one could trust neighbors or at times even family. France it appeared had been overcome with insanity. Power corrupted even the most earnest eventually whereupon those who could be trusted in normal circumstances must be looked upon with suspicion and doubt.

At least she and Erik could be sure they would not be going out of their way to make themselves known to the dissidents or those wearing uniforms. Anonymity would keep them safe. For the most part they could come and go as they liked as long as they stayed clear of the areas in use by outsiders.

Erik had watched as men, women and children were herded into the streets after being removed from their homes. If anyone was suspected of being a dissident the _**guilty**_ parties were shot on the spot with no hearing or legal process at all. With so much chaos in Paris legalities were the least of anyone's problems. That would prove to be beneficial to Beatrice later.

Men and women were being locked in cells down in the catacombs. That area did not connect directly with where Erik's and Beatrice's living areas were located. Erik had taken many months long ago to build walls that detoured the older tunnels into a new direction away from his domain. Only someone with the original plans of the catacombs would know of the off shooting tunnels. Those plans Erik himself had made sure never saw the light of day again. As far as anyone knew the two sections were carved out of separate caverns underground.

As badly as Erik would like to free everyone the risk of exposure would be too great. He had to explain that fact in graffic terms to Beatrice when she argued they could try to at release a few of the women. Erik had asked her if she wanted to take the place of one of those women. That possibility could not be ignored. If he were captured or worse what then would she do when they began the search for others? With nothing but time on their hands the guards could devote the greater part of their day to searching for them.

Beatrice had shuddered to think what those poor women suffered at the hands of their captors. Women under the complete control of men ultimately suffered indignities. She could not overlook the fact that even Erik had used his power over Christine for many years. To his credit he had never forced himself on her sexually. In point of fact it amazed her that in all those years living in what had to be near unbearable frustration he had not once taken advantage of any female among the many who occupied the opera house.

Erik and Beatrice had more than enough food thanks to Raoul's forethought and generosity. It galled Erik that he could not provide sustenance for both himself and Beatrice. There was little left in Paris to be had. Why it twisted his insides every time he took a bite baffled Erik. Of course he felt animosity toward Raoul but this seemed different. This had more to do with his pride as a provider for his…

Erik would not let himself take that thought further. Deep inside himself he knew what he felt but could not let himself have those types of feelings toward another woman just yet, maybe not ever. Christine had emasculated him almost entirely. He had the urges of a man but did not feel in the least manly when compared to other men. What could he offer a woman that would turn her head away from a more viable suitor?

As the days past Erik's attitude adjusted slightly. He began to think perhaps all hope had not been lost that he might have some redeeming qualities to offer. Beatrice at times looked at him in a certain way that heated his blood conjuring all sorts of images in his head.

Although he felt ready to be on friendly terms with Beatrice anything more would be a long time coming if ever. Erik snorted at his own arrogance. What made him think she would want to go any further than friendship? He wondered where his cocky new attitude had sprung from. Perhaps it was all that ego stroking Beatrice had done the night of their dinner and every day since.

It had been four days since they had shared their last meal. Erik wanted almost desperately to seek her out but every time he got one foot in his boat his cowardly side had him going back to pacing about his home. They had shared far too many nights together. Erik felt himself becoming dependant on her company. Even the kitten had woven its way into his heart. Everything had begun to seem like what a normal man and woman would share. Conversation, meals, ideas and dare he think it, intimacy.

Glancing around Erik saw all the extra lumber lying around. He really should get this debris out of his way. He had not recalled seeing anything in Beatrice's living space that looked like a bed. Could he not build her a bed? It would have to be simple as she needed it now not six months later. Their would be no elaborate carvings as he had done on the…Erik would not finish that thought.

Dismissing his nagging inner voice reminding him that had he not earmarked those bits of lumber for a bookcase? He ignored such reminders. Loading the wood was not an easy task. He may need to make three trips. Perhaps he would take one load today and begin the frame then take more lumber tomorrow to continue his project.

He disregarded that mocking voice that taunted that would it not be convenient to have an excuse to see Beatrice not once but twice and if he strung things out perhaps three times? If it earned him another meal cooked by someone other than himself, company as he ate the meal as well as the entertainment of Hummer who was he to deny himself such not often experienced ocassions?

When Erik arrived Beatrice was in the process of washing her hair. Of necessity she had removed all but her bloomers. He did not see Beatrice where she kneeled down on the stone floor pouring water over her head as she rubbed the soap around until a nice lather coated her hair. The large crate she used for a table blocked her from his site.

The first Beatrice knew anyone was invading her privacy was when she looked with one eye to the side in search of her towel. Soap had gotten into her other eye. Unthinkingly Beatrice straightened her back quickly, embarrassed to be caught on her knees. She held her hair up with her hands giving Erik a perfect view of her breasts.

Neither moved nor spoke for several seconds. Beatrice felt the coldness hitting her chest puckering her nipples. That thought had barely registered when the fact that she sat at Erik's feet all but nude came mortifyingly clear as she saw his avid gaze on her bared breasts. She lunged for the towel dropping her hair. Pulling the towel across her she struggled to her feet. What seemed to take minutes probably only lasted a few seconds.

Erik's face flushed almost as badly as Beatrice's did, but for different reasons. Not looking him in the eye she asked Erik what he was doing here and why did he not call out or something. Still in the mist of a strong arousal Erik huskily told her that in his domain he had never had the need to announce his arrival. She should put up a screen of some sort.

Beatrice requested that he turn his back so she could finish washing her hair. Once he had turned around she hastily poured cold water over her head. She bemoaned the fact that a perfectly hot pot of water now hung from an iron rod over the fire. She would not dare strut around without benefit of clothing with a virile man present. Actually virile or otherwise she would not be walking around sans her clothing anytime soon.

Having donned the trousers and shirt she had taken off earlier Beatrice began to dry her hair. Letting Erik know she had properly clothed herself she told him he could go about his business whatever that had been. She stopped her vigorous rubbing when she caught Erik looking rather intently lower than her chin. She wanted to look down to assure herself she had not missed a button or that her shirt had not gone transparent having gotten a little wet when she put it on her still wet skin.

The best she could do in this situation would be to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place and Erik had not just seen much more of her than anyone had in a long time. Even Lawrence had not cared to remove her gowns when he took his pleasure. He would grope her underneath her gown while grinding into her between her thighs.

"Perhaps it would be wise to make some sort of warning system between you and me. A bell or something to warn the other that company is coming." Erik stood for a moment lost in the moment of feasting his eyes on the cloth that clung to her chest revealing much more than it covered. He had to drag his gaze and his thoughts away from Beatrice and the display of her womanly charms she did not know he could see.

"Perhaps…" Erik cleared his throat as it sounded as if he had swallowed a frog. "Perhaps I could construct a system of wires between our two establishments that we could pull to give the other fair warning."

"That would be wonderful. So…what _**are**_ you doing here?"

"I have some spare lumber, some that I would have to cart out if I did not use it soon. I thought since you did not have a bed I could come up with something adequate. Of course if you are one of those who enjoy the rustic life I will return home with my meager offering." He did not feel he need tell her he had many other uses for the lumber since this use afforded him many more pleasant benefits.

Beatrice couldn't step forward fast enough to grab his arm so she could stop him leaving. A bed would make her feel as if she had moved from a hovel to a palace. She knew rats could climb but being on a higher level seemed somehow safer. Hummer had been trying to catch them but she was young yet and had not developed the skills needed for the hunt. Being only a kitten she wanted to play with them more than anything else.

Keeping things clean and tidy discouraged them from coming too close to where Beatrice actually lived. She could hear their squeaking from just outside where the light cast its dim glow. The ones she saw were not the ones that worried her. The beady eyes from the dark corners gave her some very nervous nights.

While Erik went to work constructing the frame Beatrice went to sewing a couple of blankets together for padding to use as a makeshift mattress until something better could be found. Once again Beatrice blessed Raoul for having given her so many useful things. It was not as comfortable here as it would be in a normal home above ground but what right did she have to complain?

As Beatrice stitched along her eyes strayed toward Erik's direction admiring the sheer strength of the man. He lifted those long heavy pieces of lumber as if they were no heavier than a feather. At least to her prejudiced eye that was how it seemed. Seeing the sheen of sweat on Erik's brow Beatrice set aside her blankets to fetch a cool ladle of water for him. The grumbling of her own stomach told her it must be near lunchtime. She put a piece of the smoked ham from her tin larder on a couple of thick slices of bread. She added her last piece of precious cheese. Making a sandwich for herself as well Beatrice took her offering to Erik.

Erik welcomed the respite. He had worked harder than he needed to dispel any meanderings his mind took concerning Beatrice. He could not seem to keep those images of her bared breasts out of his thoughts for long. His arousal became a painful thing as his mind jumped ahead to how it would feel to place his hands and mouth upon her soft warm skin.

Beatrice and Erik carried on a somewhat sporadic conversation as they ate. Neither seemed to have much to say. When she expressed her desire to see the outside and breathe in fresh air for just a little while Erik thought about taking her to the roof. He considered the risk of being seen. Not many would venture climbing those many flights of stairs just to see the view of Paris.

Erik had a less strenuous path to the roof. He had not used it since the night he had listened to Christine and Raoul confessing their love and pledging to always be with one another. That had also been the night Erik heard Christine describe him as having such horror for a face it was hardly a face at all. He did not know if he could face being in that hated place without it ripping him apart once again. His heart had only just begun to mend. His mind had only just accepted that there might be other possibilities for him. Dare he risk this new found peace within him? He was not sure he wanted to risk that pain once again.

After finishing the framework Erik helped Beatrice spread out the two sewn together blankets. She had been using her cloak as a pillow. After having adjusted to the slightly chilly dampness within the first few days Beatrice had found it tolerable to wear only a shirt with a heavier shirt on top. It was less restricting than the cloak.

After finishing their task Erik hesitated for only a few seconds before offering to take Beatrice to the roof. He told her sternly she must obey him at all times. Hoping he did not regret his gesture Erik waited for Beatrice to don her cloak before leading her to the boat. She had hoped not to need to ride on the water. Water travel did not agree with her she supposed. Not that it bothered her as far as being queasy or anything but it was disconcerting to feel as if at any moment you might topple over sideways. Not all the places in the lake were as shallow as where she and Erik lived.

Erik poled them through a canal Beatrice had not traveled as of yet. She marveled how people from perhaps hundreds or even thousands of years had first begun to dig out these tunnels. Within five minutes they had reached another spot where a small shoreline jutted out into the water. Erik hopped out of the boat with a nibble jump Beatrice envied.

After tying the rope to a rock outcropping Erik turned to offer his hand to Beatrice. Gratefully she took his hand, glad she did not have to chance embarrassing herself by falling into the water. Once beside Erik she looked down at their linked hands. He did not release her hand as she thought he would once she had gained a steady foothold.

It felt nice to feel his strong fingers wrapped around her much smaller hand. His palm felt slightly calloused. She had to force herself not to use a finger from her other hand to trace over the back of his hand. Her imagination took flight wondering what it would feel like to have his hands on other sensitive places of her body. One day she hoped to have the courage to find out. For now she would content herself with the feel of his hand in hers. She did not feel threatened in the least.

Erik knew it was not necessary to hold her hand as they walked through the tunnels. The torch he held would give enough light for them to see any obstacles in their path. His only excuse was it felt good to have her hand placed securely in his without her struggling to get away from him. He remembered how he had dragged Christine down into the lower levels after he had taken her from the stage. It had twisted him inside to know she was so afraid of him. How could he have expected her to react any other way? He had given her no choice in the matter.

Erik could feel Beatrice's eyes returning to glance at him as they walked along. He felt her hand tighten on his. When he chanced a quick glance in her direction he could see the smile on her lips. As they continued to work their way upward Beatrice gradually moved closer to Erik until she could feel his shoulder rubbing against her own. Just that little contact set off what felt like little fireworks displays all over her body.

The very air seemed to crackle with the sexual tension between them. This was all new for both of them. Erik had felt such emotions before but never had any real opportunity to explore them. For Beatrice this was the first time she felt any sort of positive reaction to a man outside of family members.

At last Erik stopped in front of what was a door only about waist high. Opening it he stepped over the little lip that stuck up at the bottom of the door frame. When they stood up Beatrice could see they had come out on the rooftop through a trapdoor in one of the statues. Knowing Erik she would bet this door had not been in the original plans of the opera house. Taking her by the hand once more Erik led Beatrice to the edge of the roof so they could look out over Paris. They had come at a perfect time. The sun was just beginning to set.

Beatrice shivered not so much from the cold as the sheer beauty of the moment. Everything looked as if it were gilded in gold with fiery highlights. He wrapped his arm around Beatrice as he pulled her closer to him. He waited for her to move away or react in any negative way. Rather than pull away from him as he expected Beatrice took a step closer to him coming to rest against his side. Erik felt his body stiffening in reaction to this closeness to another person, a female at that. All the stiffening of his body parts was not taking place only below his waist. His whole body seemed to freeze in place.

To take his mind off of the woman beside him Erik tried to point out many of the more prominent buildings they could see. Beatrice listened to Erik's captivating voice. Slowly so as not to startle him Beatrice leaned her head back against his shoulder. She felt Erik shift so that his front now aligned with her back. Breathlessly she waited to see what would happen next. She felt a little fear rising but her most prominent emotion was that warm stirring in her belly and below.

When she felt his hand slide slowly across the front of her, Beatrice nearly buckled at the knees with all the different messages her brain and body were exchanging. When Erik had been quiet for some time Beatrice thought he would suggest they return below. Instead to her shock and delight she felt his lips barely graze along her neck.

She shivered with the reaction to have such an intimate caress. She wanted more. Beatrice tilted her head to the side allowing Erik better access to her. He kissed and gently nipped at her neck. His tongue soothed where his teeth scraped along the delicate skin she had offered to him.

Beatrice nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his hand slide inside her shirt. Her heart began to race, not with fear as she had expected but with a welcoming flare of heat throughout her body. Between her thighs felt as if warm liquid had pooled where she wanted to know his touch the most. If she dared she would guide his hand there herself but felt that might be too much for the both of them. This was all too new to rush anything.

Erik nipped the lobe of her ear one last time then murmured huskily, "We should begin the journey back. It is too much of a risk to stay here for long. We will come back, I give you my word."

To Beatrice it sounded as if his promise might be more for continuing what they had started than coming back merely to look out over Paris from the roof. Content with how things had gone Beatrice willingly let Erik take her hand to lead her home once more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning! Please be advised that this chapter contains sexual content. If you are an underage reader skip ahead. If you want to know what happens I'll e-mail the edited version or post it if I get a few requests. **

**Chapter Eleven**

**Winds of Change**

Erik felt so many different emotions vying for supremacy. His body had wanted to continue with those stimulating kisses and caresses. His inner demon had cursed him for not taking advantage of her willingness to have him doing such intimate things to her. Sanity kept him from taking things too far. If he frightened her again he may never have the chance to explore whatever he felt had been developing between them.

His arousal was a painful thing at the moment. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. That was not what he wanted. If he and Beatrice were to go any further he had to know that she would be there for him once the passion had been spent. When he first gave consideration to anything between them it had merely been of a sexual nature. Now he felt he wanted more, he knew for damn certain he had always needed more.

He was well aware that it was usually the sentiment of the woman during such encounters to stop things before they got out of hand. Erik wanted his first time to be more than just satisfying lustful longings. When he had lost control that first time with Beatrice he had not cared who she was or what she wanted. His only goal had been to achieve the spilling of his seed. Well he had accomplished that much to his discomfort. He had behaved like a randy young boy taking his first scullery maid in the kitchen pantry.

That was not what Erik ultimately had in mind when he joined with a woman for the first time. He had been forced to forgo that intimacy all his adult life. Now it would be the culmination of all his dreams and fantasies. He could probably persuade her to give in to him. She had felt willing under his hands moments ago. He did not want to have any need for coercion or persuasion. He wanted her to meet him halfway, to participate not simply allow his embraces waiting for the next step.

Perhaps if he could raise her need to the level of his, Beatrice would return his ardor. Passion fueled passion, or so he had heard. He was ready to burn the opera house down for sure, only this time it would not be a chandelier igniting the sparks.

After arriving back at the little inlay Beatrice used as her home Erik stepped out onto the stony shore. He turned to offer Beatrice a helping hand. Once they both stood on the shore neither seemed to know what to do or say, if indeed anything should be said or done. He shifted from one foot to the other. He hoped she would make some gesture toward him. When nothing was forthcoming Erik sighed then turned to leave. He had only taken a step or two when he heard Beatrice call his name softly.

"Erik, wait." Erik turned to see what she wanted. He had no sooner turned to face her than he felt her collide with his chest. Grabbing his head between her hands Beatrice tugged him down so she could place her lips upon his. Standing struck dumb with his hands uselessly at his side seemed an all too familiar pose. He was reminded of another time and another kiss. This time he damn well would not let the woman kissing him go until she knew the full measure of his arousal and need.

Erik kissed Beatrice until they had to part so they could gasp in much needed air. They stood panting neither wanting to speak and break the passionate moment they had just shared. Beatrice raised her hand to trail her fingers down Erik's left cheek. When she would have gone under his chin then across to his right side Erik grabbed her hand. He still could not trust anyone around his mask. He'd not be bared again unless it was by his own hand. She had seen him before but nothing from his past assured him contempt would not rise again upon seeing his face as they stood nose to nose.

Understanding Erik's reason for staying her hand Beatrice backed away to wave him off with a smile as she turned away. She went to the bed he had made for her and sat down leaning back as her legs dangled over the side. Contentedly she sighed then laid down wiggling to get comfortable. When next she sat up Erik had gone as silently as any thief in the night. How apropos Beatrice thought for she was sure Erik had begun to steal her heart. Tonight he had taken another small piece.

If they forged ahead in the same vein as they had tonight it would not be long before Erik carried her whole heart in the palm of his hand. She could only hope that Erik would be a thoughtful caretaker of her life source. The heart in the hands of a thoughtless lover could cause such devastation. Erik had known such pain from Christine's careless handling of his offering. She had not done it deliberately but unthinkingly of all the consequences for poor Erik.

Christine had been far too young and naïve to be responsible for the likes of Erik. His dark passion needed someone who could meet him passion to passion. Beatrice did not know if she could be that person but she would damn well try. The response Erik evoked in her had to mean that she would welcome further intimacies. She had gone to him kissing him of her own accord. She had never done that with Lawrence even before she knew how monstrous he could be. Erik made her feel bold. He lit such intense fires everywhere he touched her.

Honesty forced her to own that Erik could melt her into a puddle with a look from his sultry green eyes. Even now she could feel the pooling of liquid heat within her. She bit her lip wondering if she dared explore that place that yearned for Erik's touch. Just thinking of it urged her hand lower on her body.

Closing her eyes Beatrice gave in to something she had never dared explore before. Now she felt it a necessary thing as she needed to know if she could go beyond mere want for anything intimate. It would not be the same as being with a man but at least she could lay to rest Lawrence's taunts and declarations that she had only cold ice water in her veins.

Sliding her finger along her folds Beatrice felt a streak of fire at the first caress of her finger. Stroking backward she felt another hot bolt zip through her. Without even having to think of it her hips raised to met the next stroke of her finger. Her body demanded a quicker rhythm, less time in-between the strokes. Soon Beatrice rubbed against her swollen nub frantically as waves rippled from where her finger stroked to every nerve she possessed.

She caught the loud groan in her throat before it could work its way out of her mouth. Knowing how sound traveled she did not want Erik to hear such impassioned noises coming from her little niche. A wave of such intensity took Beatrice by storm her body began to thrash around the bed. Her whole body clenched again and again with ecstasy. Never had she felt anything so painful yet so wonderful.

More than anything she wished she had had the courage to invite Erik to her bed. Imagining him doing this intensified what she felt. Would she be able to survive what she expected it would be like when Erik took her? This act she had done she felt would only be greater when performed by someone you cared about. Perhaps one need not even care.

Lying drained from what she had done, Beatrice determined that the next time she reached those heights it would be with Erik. She felt tingles where she anticipated Erik's touch. Lord above she hoped she did not attack the man when next they met. The way she felt now it would be a toss of the dice if she could control herself.

**A/N:Short chapter. Sorry. I'll post a bonus chapter later tonight or tomorrow. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**Desperate Days in Paris**

The weeks following their rooftop rendezvous Erik and Beatrice ate every meal together other than breakfast. Slowly Beatrice's belongings made their way to Erik's. Whether a conscious thing or not, Beatrice left something there after every visit. Erik seemed to need to borrow things she had then just did not return them.

They both knew where this was heading but neither spoke openly about what they wanted. Perhaps this subterfuge was their way of getting what they wanted without either one having to risk being rejected. In this way they enjoyed the benefits without anyone being hurt. Neither really felt that rejection would be a possibility but old habits were hard to break. Protecting oneself had become second nature for the both of them.

Tonight Erik had promised to take Beatrice to the roof for an hour or so. She had been preparing a meal they could carry up in a basket. Thinking it might look romantic Beatrice had even placed a candle with its holder in the basket. Erik had told her he had a few bottles of wine. He would bring one of his best vintages.

Every time they were together in innocent conversation or simply eating a meal most of Beatrice's mind centered on how she could get Erik to kiss and hold her as he had before. Since the last time on the roof he had gone out of his way to be very circumspect while Beatrice could only think of ripping his clothes from his body. If she had been able to flirt as a young girl she might know how to peak Erik's ardor without having to blatantly ask for what she wanted.

Beatrice had bathed using a little of her precious lotion to soften her skin which had become rather dry as well as calloused from the menial work she must do just to survive. She wished she had a pair of gloves to hide her hands. That would look rather silly she supposed considering they were only going to the roof.

She did don her dress although forgoing to wear the heavy underskirts or corset. Who would there be to gasp at her daring? Erik would not care or notice unless…well she best not speculate on that too much or she might give in to panic. She trusted Erik and did want to go to the next step in their relationship but worried that when the final moment came she would let her fears overwhelm her. Bravely thinking of him doing the same intimate act she had done to herself somehow did not seem the same now that she faced the possibility of getting what she wanted.

Erik did not deserve a whimpering coward who led him on then bolted at the critical moment. If she had to nail her shoes to the floor she would not turn and run no matter how badly she might want to do so. If he made one gesture of ardor toward her, she would not allow anything, even her own fears to come between them.

She brushed her hair dry until it crackled. The candlelight cast streams of light in her hair. Being light in color in this dim light it looked more golden than its usual slightly darker shade. The blue of her eyes sparkled with excitement, looking for all the world like the bluest ocean reflecting the brightest sun's rays. This woman had been the one Lawrence said would be his perfect companion. Erik and not Lawrence had been the one to awaken this sensual woman.

Beatrice looked down at her feet. She wiggled her toes in disgust inside the ugly worn boots. She was glad to have those boots when walking through the tunnels or even in her living space but what she wouldn't give for a dainty pair of evening slippers even though the practicality of them would be nil. Smiling as she looked into the small mirror Beatrice decided she would just have to make sure Erik's eyes were occupied someplace other than her booted feet.

The jangle of the bell signaled Erik's arrival. She tugged on the third rope down which connected to the bell that was located just before he made the turn to her alcove. This would signal he could continue on. They both had matching sets of bells, one to announce their arrival, one to signal to come on ahead and one to signal danger just in case.

The boat came around the bend with Erik standing regally poling along with ease. When she got a good look at him she nearly lost her ability to breathe or think cognitively. Erik had dressed for the occasion as well. His all black suit added to his already overpowering aura. The man oozed sensuality from every pore without seeming to even know that he could crook his finger to have any number of women dropping at his feet in worship. Knowing how he affected her likely she would be at the head of that line. She had dropped to her knees in her mind any number of times. This thought had a blush blossoming on her cheeks as a naughty picture flashed into her mind's eye. Her mind had raced ahead of her abilities.

His vest was red brocade trimmed in gold with gold colored buttons. His cravat matched his suit. Over all Erik looked dangerous. The white of his mask only added to the mystery and sense of the untamed man underneath the civilized trappings.

Beatrice was half tempted to fain a sprained ankle so they could forgo the long trek to the roof and have their picnic and whatever followed in the comfort of her home, or at least what she now considered her home. Knowing she would be disappointing Erik as he had been planning this night for over a week she greeted him with a smile.

He had made his rounds making sure of just how far up the soldiers had been. Bombing had been going on for days. Dust had permeated down into the lower levels as well as smoke from fires. Erik had a devil of a time keeping up with the fires from the shelling. He refused to allow her to accompany him. He felt he could better defend himself if he didn't have Beatrice to worry about. He had overheard some of the soldiers talking and to him it sounded as if peace talks were in the offing. This last bout of shelling had been a last hurrah in Erik's opinion.

The people of France wanted to be able to get on with their lives. They had been at war for far too many years off and on with different countries and even between themselves. It was time to lay arms aside and seek a peaceful settlement of differences.

Beatrice felt more nervous now than she had on her wedding night. By the time she had married Lawrence she had come to realize she did not love him. If he had shown her one bit of kindness she may have come to care for him. All he had succeeded in doing had been to give her reason to hate and fear him. This fear she felt when thinking of joining with Erik seemed different.

Any intimacy she and Lawrence had shared would on their wedding night had been a formality on her part. She had lain stoically in the bed letting Lawrence do what he needed so he would leave her in peace. It had been over so quickly Beatrice thought she had missed something that surely should have come after the excruciating pain. If not for that pain and uncomfortable burning between her legs she would have thought nothing had happened. The spot of blood on the sheets in the morning confirmed that Lawrence had indeed taken her. She had wondered at the time if all men came to fulfillment so speedily.

Erik carried the basket and a blanket as he guided her along. She had protested that he should at least let her carry the blanket. He would not hear of it. Time and time again Erik cast unreadable glances in her direction. Nervously she began to wonder if she had forgotten to do something about her person that he found odd or displeasing.

The air smelled slightly of gunpowder when they first stepped out. The wind would dissipate the last lingering wisps of smoke in a short time. The sky had cooperated with a clear night. Countless stars lit up the dark sky. It all looked so beautiful compared to the carnage below.

Having spread out the blanket they worked together to lay out the food. Erik opened the wine pouring them each a glass. He had even produced two crystal wine glasses. She would have been just as happy with one of the jars she had emptied of its canned contents. They consumed the meal with only a few idle comments being exchanged. Having satisfied their appetites for food they cleared away the remains. They worked in silence but it was not one of those silences that begged to be broken because it felt awkward. Both Beatrice and Erik felt quite content to let silence reign for a while. They had private thoughts roiling around in their minds.

Beatrice lay back to look up at the stars. Erik after hesitating a moment soon lay beside her. Only a few inches separated them but it may just as well have been miles. Neither could bring themselves to risk spoiling what had thus far been a perfect evening. When the silence seemed to drag on too long Beatrice asked Erik if he knew anything about the stars and their constellations.

Erik modestly told her that he knew a little then proceeded to give her a lesson any scholar would have been proud of. Beatrice had begun long ago to think that there was far more to Erik than the ghostly phantom he showed the world. He seemed to be one of the most intelligent men she had ever met. He could solve complex problems with ease. He intimidated Beatrice at times with all his knowledge. There did not seem to be any subject he had not studied.

She waited for Erik to make a move toward her. Something that would head them in the direction she wanted to go and hoped he did too. She had had enough of waiting. They had danced around this issue long enough. The tantalizing touches and heated glances were all well and good but left to simmer too long they would soon evaporate into nothing but vapor.

Rolling to her side then boldly placing her hand on Erik's stomach she waited for some response. She felt his muscles contract and heard the harshly indrawn breath. It seemed one touch was all that was needed to set the kindling ablaze. Erik rolled to his side to rest on his shoulder. Bending his head down he placed his lips upon Beatrice's in a kiss that started out tentatively then soon blazed into unbridled passion.

Using his tongue he coaxed Beatrice to open her mouth for him. Once he felt the moist tip touching his own tongue he groaned as a powerful rush of pure sexual energy surged to the fore. This had been brewing for weeks, now it would boil over engulfing them both in fiery flames.

Erik had to keep reminding himself not to let his libido outrun his actions. He must give Beatrice the same pleasure she gave to him. This time he would take the time to savor every second with her. He could not help the shaking of his hands as he undid her buttons. Once he had accomplished that he was surprised as well as pleased that she had no cumbersome undergarments hindering him from getting where he wished to go.

Slowly so as not to frighten her Erik placed his hand on the mound of flesh he had uncovered. His eyes devoured the sight. Erik had seen women before but never one this close or one he could touch. She felt soft yet firm under his hand. The nipple budded under his touch. Licking his lips Erik dropped his head to suckle that tempting little bud.

Beatrice arched her back when she felt the first flick of Erik's tongue. With him lying against her she could not doubt the proof of his need as it throbbed against her thigh. He made little unconscious surges against her. The fire had been lit in both of them and nothing would douse the flames other than attaining that final coupling.

Wanting to feel his skin with her hands, Beatrice worked at undoing his vest with little success. Her fingers had seemed to turn into thumbs just when she needed them to be nimble. Pushing away from her with urgency he continued to hold her eyes with his as he set about freeing himself of the clothing that now felt far too confining to be tolerated. Sitting up he unbuttoned his vest then his shirt. He tore at his cravat with little regard for the silk. He tossed it aside carelessly.

If it had not been still cold Erik would have stripped away all restraints. He wanted to feel flesh on flesh. That sensation had never been afforded him with anyone. This was not exactly how Erik planned to claim Beatrice but he did not think he could stop what he had set in motion. The throbbing beast in his trousers had been well and truly awoken. On his knees with his lower legs extended behind him Erik unbuttoned his trousers one button at a time. At any time Beatrice could stay his hand. She only stared at him with wide lust filled eyes. Her want equaled that of Erik's.

At the last moment he hesitated to release his engorged flesh fearing she may compare him to that of her husband and find him wanting. He closed his eyes when she reached out to him with her hand. With shaking fingers she pulled aside the opening of his trousers. When Erik's manhood sprang free Beatrice gasped. In wonder she touched the tip of her finger to the tip of his shaft. It felt warm and silky. A little dew drop of moisture clung at the end. Using her finger Beatrice touched the little droplet. This was only a forerunner of what would come later.

Erik swallowed with difficulty. His body began to shake with the force of his restraint. When she wrapped her fingers around him Erik could not control himself any longer. He collapsed on top of her burying his face between her soft mounds.

"Beatrice I will try to make this good for you. I am not a man who has practiced the art of pleasuring a woman. As…as proven by my last attempt I have little control over my reactions." As Erik set about taking his time exploring the tantalizing charms set before him to feast upon, his damn mask got in the way of his enjoyment.

Perhaps if he kept the ravaged side away from her, she would not be sickened by what the mask hid. He had gone too far to let his mask deter him now. True enough she had seen him without either mask or wig but never this close or with him doing such intimate things to her. Removing that most hated and coveted possession Erik carelessly tossed it to the side. He had much more important matters to draw his considerable mental abilities.

It pleased Beatrice that Erik thought of her needs amidst his own demanding urges. As he began to raise the hem of her skirt she clamped her thighs together in reflex to his hand nearing her private parts. He raised his head from where he had been devouring first one breast then the other. He was careful to keep the right side of his face away from her. His hand lay at the juncture where her thighs met. With a finger he stroked the curly mass of hair covering her womanly bounty. When his finger stroked along a particularly sensitive place Beatrice gasped and arched her back as an unexpected moan escaped her.

Erik jerked his hand back thinking in his haste to satisfy his lust he had hurt her in some way. Hoping to sooth any discomfort he had caused he gently massaged the place he had been stroking before.

"Oh…oh…Erik." Beatrice could only moan whispering words in disjointed phrases.

"Beatrice I am sorry. Did I hurt you again? Please tell me what to do."

"Erik…no…it…felt…it felt good. Do…do it again…" By now Beatrice could only pant as waves of sensations washed over her. They began between her thighs then spread outward warming her at first then spiraling into near incendiary heat. This surpassed anything she had imagined. Beatrice felt as if her whole body thrummed to some musical composition Erik conducted.

Needing no further encouragement Erik stroked his finger along the folds of flesh nestled among those tempting curls. Every moan, every buck against his hand shot new blood into his already swollen manhood. He could not handle much more of this.

"Erik…oh…oh yes. I…I need…I need you Erik. Come to me. I want to feel you inside me." Beatrice did not know where this demanding unafraid temptress came from but she liked her.

Hearing her call out his name in her passion was a gift Erik had never expected. She would let him join with her in the most intimate way two people can. She would not only let him but she encouraged him. Knowing where he wanted to be Erik just had no clue how to actually make this come about or how he should initiate this first coupling. Did he simply thrust in claiming her or ease into her letting her adjust to him?

He would not fail himself this time. He would have her keening while he took his pleasure if it killed him. Their clothing somewhat hampered easy access. This was not what Erik had planned for his first time or the woman he had chosen first but he damned well would make it a memorable experience, a favorable memory for both of them.

The first touch of her warm wetness locked the breath in his chest. He nearly wept in gratitude. Slowly Erik sank into her welcoming womanhood. She sighed or groaned in Erik's ear. He could not tell which nor did he particularly care. He was overcome by the feelings coursing through him to feel a woman wrapped around that part of him that most considered defined a man, especially men themselves.

Erik could not hold back the groan to save his life. As he began to move he could feel the coil tightening inside him. Beatrice did not lie placidly beneath him. She raised her hips with each downward stroke he made. Their kisses became frantic as their rhythm quickened. Erik felt as if at any moment that tightly wound coil would snap shattering the world around him.

He felt Beatrice arch then stiffen just as he felt her clench around his manhood. Incredible as it seemed Erik felt his insides tightening even more. The flame that had been lit burned with enough heat to burn down the opera house it seemed as Erik reached some as yet unknown pinnacle where his body clenched for a second then with a few hard strokes released the tension that had overtaken him.

Erik released that which was the beginning of life. Even once the urgency had left him Erik continued to stroke gently within Beatrice. He could not have removed himself anyway without a struggle as Beatrice had wrapped her legs around his hips bringing him tightly against her. They were flush together from chest to hip. In all of Erik's fantasies he had not even come close to imagining how a woman felt inside.

Erik leaned his head down against Beatrice's chest. He closed his eyes as he whispered, "Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I had never really thought…no matter what I had planned with…this, what happened between you and I will forever be one of my most precious memories.

This is not how I planned my…our…first time. I wanted everything to be perfect. You deserved better than…"

Beatrice silenced him by gently placing two fingers against his lips.

"Erik this was perfect for me. It does not matter where or how it happens. It is who you are with that really matters. You and I we…we care for one another.

Never, not once in all my married life did Lawrence make me feel anything close to what you gave to me. If anyone should be grateful it is I. I now know it was never me who could…could not feel things…make him feel things. The fault was in Lawrence."

Beatrice placed her hands on his face looking directly into his wonderful green eyes that at the moment held a strange light as he gazed back at her. Lifting up she kissed Erik on his right cheek, then his left and finally on his lips. When he would have turned and pulled away from her lips touching the horrid side of his face Beatrice would not let him look away. Brushing her thumb across his lips she leaned up to kiss him a final time before they must dress so they could return to the bowels of the opera house.

The two who reentered the building were not the same two who came out. Friends on the edge of some deeply abiding emotion had come out to the roof. Two lovers teetering on the brink of a lifelong dream of that one love, one lifetime returned to a place that would not be quite as dark or lonely for one who had lived just outside of what others had. He may get his happily ever after if he was willing to let go of the wisp of a dream.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry this is so late in coming. My dear husband decided to clean out our savings and checking and move on leaving me with nothing but the bills. Some might wonder why the heck I am bothering to post at all when things are so bad in real life. Simple really. I need this to keep my mind from my troubles. Right now my fantasy Phantom(Gerard Butler) beats the crap out of my real life. I hope I did a fair job editing as you can imgine my mind was a little distracted. **

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Peace Returns to ****Paris**

When they had returned below Erik had hesitated to ask Beatrice to move all her things to his humble home. He had not wanted to spend one more night in that lonely bed. Of course he wanted her again with a fierce passion but he also would like to feel her beside him during the night when his dreams sometimes haunted him with frightful clarity. Torture from his past sometimes was relived during dreams.

Beatrice had shyly waited for him to make some move that would give her some direction as to how things would progress now. She did not wish to stay alone now that they had been intimate. It would be silly really to worry about propriety down here. She could honestly say she did not care to sleep alone any longer. Hummer was a warm body at night but she imagined it could be so much better with Erik wrapped around her.

Showing boldness hitherto unknown to her, Beatrice gathered her nightclothes and toiletries. As an after-thought she grabbed her toothbrush and toothpowder. Precious little of it was left but there would be enough to freshen the foulness of the early morning that lingered after a long nights sleep. Coming to stand before Erik with her small bundle clasped to her chest he at first did nothing other than stare from the bundle to her face.

Erik dare not take for granted this meant what he dearly wanted it to mean. He did not relish returning home to the cold comfort of his lonely bed nor the silence that accompanied it. Slowly he raised his hand to offer it to Beatrice. When she smiled then placed her hand in his own Erik wanted to get on bended knees in gratitude for this wondrous woman and all she chose to give him freely.

Erik poled homeward for the first time with eager strokes. He would not face another night of his dreams or nightmares alone. If he wished for conversation he had someone other than his own voice to answer him.

Once they arrived Erik set about making things more comfortable. He laid a fire that soon had the immediate area warming nicely. One of his first projects upon returning to his home all those months ago had been to lay lines to divert gas from the opera house into his kitchen and bedroom.

He had a boiler that warmed his water. He had yet to affix pipes from the water heater to a tub or sink. He had not begun a proper water closet. His plan was to install a flushing toilet as well as a rather large tub for bathing. With a woman in residence he should perhaps make those items a priority. The small metal tub had been fine when he had been alone.

When Erik offered to carry the necessary hot water for a bath in his metal bathing tub Beatrice could have hugged his neck. Better than that she kissed him soundly as she told him that yes, she would be happy to accept such a generous offer. Many kisses later the water finally made it to the tub.

To emerge in a tubful of water would seem heavenly to Beatrice. She managed to keep herself clean but had longed for a real allover washing, one that did not need to be done one section at a time. Eagerly she had stripped down then lowered herself into the wonderfully warm water. Never had anything felt so luxurious. Beatrice groaned as if pleasured by a lover.

Erik had thrown a sheet over a wire he had stretched from one wall to another in the corner. If he had thought that would serve to preserve her modesty how wrong he had been. The light from behind the draped sheet highlighted every curve in a shadowy dance across the sheet. A more alluring sight Erik could not remember as he watched Beatrice disrobe then sink into the tub.

He thought a gentleman would remove himself from such voyeuristic pleasures. This one time Erik would be the first to claim he was not a gentleman. He looked his fill as Beatrice enjoyed her bath not knowing he watched and listened to every movement and every sound. By the time she had finished then gave an arousing show as she donned her nightclothes Erik felt ready to bust the seams of his trousers.

Beatrice was a bit baffled by the rush Erik presented to get through the evening meal. While she cleared away the remnants left after they had finished Erik availed himself of the bathing facility. She had innocently turned to carry their plates to the wash basin when Erik's silhouette behind the sheet had rooted her to the spot. She stared helplessly entranced as the shadow removed one article of clothing after another.

Where Erik had been seated Beatrice was standing. Turning her head just a fraction she could see Erik reflected in the mirror against the opposite wall from the corner bathing area. Greedily she stared as inch by inch of Erik was revealed for her eager eyes. She had to lay the dishes back on the table in fear of dropping them as her hands began to shake.

Muscles rippled on his back and arms. There were many scars crisscrossing his back but those she only cast a cursory glance at for now. She nearly collapsed when he dropped his trousers. Perfection in human form had been her first thought to describe Erik's physique. When he turned to place his trousers on the chair behind him she got her first look of what a man looked like in full. Beatrice could see Erik from top to toe.

A sudden realization brought a flush to her face. She glanced quickly behind her to the chair that Erik had been seated in when she had been bathing. He would not have been able to see her in the mirror. She did not know whether that set her mind at ease or if she wished for him to see.

As she observed Erik Beatrice began to take note of all the changes in her attitude toward men and intimacy. Perhaps it would not be the same with anyone other than Erik. Up on the rooftop he had brought her such bliss. Not once had she feared him during his possession of her. What she had missed during that encounter this little display made up for that deprivation many times over.

Beatrice had no wish to explore a relationship with any other man that she felt certain about. Erik suited her in every way. They understood one another's past hurts as well as the issue of not trusting placing their hearts in the hands of another. She thought this might be love or close to that sentiment but had nothing she could compare it to. Her life with Lawrence had nothing of love in it. She was not even certain what her father had given her had been love.

It certainly had not felt affectionate. She supposed Raoul's kindnesses over the years had been the closest thing to love she had ever known first hand. She had seen it in others but could not say how it felt in herself. What she had read about the emotion in books and heard women discuss amongst themselves did tend to make her believe what she felt toward Erik was something more powerful than mere affection or friendship.

Deciding to let things happen as they would, she would not label or try to define what developed between her and Erik. It did not matter what label one placed on the emotion if it was love. The sentiment and emotions would be the same no matter what one called it.

She knew it was wrong of her to watch Erik in this way but she had not the will to turn away. It was as if he were the magnet and she the piece of metal inexorably drawn together. Breathing became harsh indrawn gulps of air as Erik's sensual imagery fed Beatrice's newly found libido. Every nerve ending vibrated with sexual tension. Sensual tingles raced up and down over her skin pulling it tight over bone and muscle with want.

The pooling heat between her thighs had her clenching them together trying to ease the throb of want. Beatrice had heard of men who had these lustful cravings but had thought a woman's purpose was only to lie beneath her master to serve his whims not daring to ask for anything in return or wonder if something more should be forthcoming.

Her lot she thought being a woman, was to simply endure the possession then be grateful when the deed was done. With Erik, she thought she would never come to tire of what he gave her. If anything she thought she wanted more of the same. If that made her a whore or harlot so be it. She'd wear those names gladly just to have a few moments of Erik's loving her with his body, even if it could not be with his mind and soul as well.

He had not professed any feeling of love for her or promises of forever. Neither had she given any such words out loud. In her heart she felt that the words had been embedded deeply just waiting for the opportunity to spring forth.

When Erik reached for the towel Beatrice broke out of the spell he had cast upon her senses. Grabbing the dishes she put them in the sink for once not caring if the rats took over. Quickly she sprinted the short distance to the room that contained his bed. One could not really call it a bedroom yet but the foundations were laid.

Soon the walls would be erected then furnishing would begin. Beatrice marveled once more how clever and creative Erik was. Such genius and gifts as he had should be shared with the world not buried away to rot and molder in damp darkness.

Beatrice promised herself that if she did nothing else she would bring Erik into the light above. If not among the whole of society then a small piece of it that would accept him for who and what he was, making no judgments or casting out of hurtful names.

Now the crux of the issue of sharing that miles of bed was before her, Beatrice shivered at the implications. Intimacy was one thing. Sharing the bed where they would surely touch one another at times, Beatrice did not know if she could do that. A bed had always meant Lawrence rutting at her as he groaned and slobbered his drunken kisses over her unwilling flesh. It meant enduring the burning between her thighs as he drove into her over and over trying to reach his limit and spilled into her.

It meant hits and punches when he could not perform in the way he wished. It would always be her fault, something she had or had not done. If he could not come to completion within her womb he would force her mouth to him so he could seek his pleasure another way. In the end that had been the only way he wanted her to pleasure him. She dare not let the disgust show on her face. To do so would earn her a beating. To protest earned slaps across the face until her acquiescence had been won.

Knowing in her mind it would be different with Erik and actually testing her resolve were miles apart from the reality of what she felt now. Panic set in. She felt faint. Spots flashed before her eyes as she swayed weakly. Flopping down on the bed Beatrice tried to soothe herself with silent encouraging words.

Other than that first uncontrolled few moments in the storage closet Erik had been nothing other than a gentleman. A bit grouchy and critical at times but so had she. They had gone through their period of adjustment and come out the other side on an unexpected path. She would not let any lingering insecurities from Lawrence's treatment of her distort what was now developing between her and Erik.

Reaching that decision Beatrice stood up then flicked the covers aside. She crawled in coming to rest in the middle. She'd not start out on the far side making it harder for both of them to make a move to close the gap. Erik had as many or more insecurities than she did. He would not find it any easier to lie in this bed with someone who had the potential to hurt or even completely destroy what little confidence and respect he had in himself. Beatrice had discovered in the last couple of months that Erik had never felt himself to be really good enough for Christine.

She had wanted to shake him when he denigrated his worth. Christine, bless her had not done Erik any good service allowing herself to continue the farce that he was her Angel of Music. She must have known once she began to become a young woman that the voice from the walls or coming from the alter in the chapel, was not a ghost at all.

Beatrice had to wonder if at some point Christine had known but chose not to reveal her knowledge because it had suited her schoolgirl fantasies to have some man cater to her as Erik did. Christine may be naïve but she was far from stupid. Beatrice didn't know if she would have done the same in Christine's place or not. She would like to think she would have been different and encouraged Erik to come out into the light but not knowing all the circumstances during those years it was hard to say for sure how one would react.

Beatrice heard Erik approaching. She felt as relaxed as a board. Telling herself it was nonsense to let the location of their intimacy change the way she reacted made no difference to her body as Erik's weight dipped the mattress. She had not missed his hesitation to approach the bed. She had assumed he would be eager to have her in his bed. Most men would not think twice about such a thing. Erik was not like most men.

She blinked in surprise when she heard Erik's soft whisper break the silence. "You do not…we…you and I…nothing need happen tonight. I do not expect…"

Erik stopped speaking when Beatrice scooted across the foot or so between them so she touched every inch of his body on his left side. He nearly stopped breathing altogether when she laid her hand on his stomach. He could not stop the clenching of his muscles. The slow movement of her hand set up a trembling in him.

When her hand trailed up to his mask Erik grabbed her wrist in a bone crushing grip. Bitter memories of another woman daring to fondle his face so she could lull him into a false since of security lit a furnace of anger overriding any passion he had felt earlier.

Rolling over Erik pinned Beatrice beneath him. She tried to hide her fright from him but it was there in her eyes. Beatrice wondered how many times she would have to see his face and make no shows of fear or horror before Erik fully trusted her.

"No one removes my mask but me. Don't touch that side of my face unless I give permission for you to do so. Understand?" He shook her by her wrists still in his punishing grip.

Beatrice gently twisted the wrist of her left hand. Erik let her go immediately. Slowly Beatrice traced her fingertip along his mask. She moved from the hard unlined brow down over the part that would cover a part of his nose. Stroking his lips with only the tip of her finger brought a gasp from Erik as heat shot into every part of him then centered in his groin. He felt himself growing hard.

He kept his eyes trained on her and mentally tracked her hand. His mind seemed to be short circuiting. He thought less of her ripping his mask off and more about what part of him she might grace with that finger tip.

"Erik I saw you on the roof. Not clearly or the whole of you but enough to know it is not a handsome sight. A person's body may be pleasing but it is just bone, muscle and flesh. Looks do not measure the man. What is in here- she touched his temple-and what is in here-she placed her hand on his heart-these are the places that make a man what he is. Not a pleasing countenance, wealth, or a place in society.

The poorest, most horribly ugly man can own the sweetest of natures. A handsome wealthy man can have a soul as black as sin with a temperament to match. Lawrence had one of the handsomest faces I have ever seen. Erik if I were to compare the two of you, and I have, Lawrence comes out wanting.

I will never take away what for you is a shield between you and the world. Who am I to take that from you? You have already given me more than any man I know. When and if you wish to share that private part of you I will cherish the trust you place in me. I do not need to see your face Erik. It matters only to me because it is something that causes you shame in yourself. Any revelations will be in your own time and in your own way. Have I allayed all of your concerns?"

Erik felt the tightening in his chest along with the sting of tears in his eyes. Willpower kept a single drop of moisture from trickling down his cheek. He'd not shame himself by crying like a child in front of her.

Beatrice placing her finger on his lip knocked any thoughts right out of his head. His whole being seemed centered on that tiny contact of flesh to flesh. The whole side of him lay flush with her yet the tip of her finger held some electrical charge. Wherever she placed her finger left a tingle behind.

He wondered if it would be the same for her. Erik lifted his hand to touch his fingertip to the corner of Beatrice's mouth. Her finger stilled as he heard as well as felt her swiftly indrawn breath. To know that she felt every bit of what he felt increased his own excitement. Wanting to taste her again Erik placed a soft kiss to the side of her mouth. He was gratified when she turned her head seeking to gain a deeper salutation.

He willingly complied with her wish for it was what he wanted too. Stroking her lips with his tongue Erik asked with gentle strokes if he could taste her inner moistness. She did not hesitate to give her permission by opening her mouth to the caress of his tongue. It didn't take much to set the tinder ablaze. Frantic for the feel of her under him, Erik removed their nightclothes with more haste than finesse. Neither seemed to mind.

Erik could not resist this golden opportunity handed to him on a platter. He would look his fill upon the flesh of his first woman. Tossing the covers aside Erik rolled to the side so he could see all of Beatrice without hindrance. Greedily he ran his gaze from top to bottom with a longer perusal as he came to her womanly cradle of love.

He could not stop the hand that reached out to touch those enticing curls covering the aperture between her thighs. He watched her closely as he used his finger in the same manner that he had when loving her on the roof. Her face scrunched up as if in pain as she arched her back. A moan hummed in her throat then came out her mouth. Leaning his head down Erik took her nipple into his mouth grazing his tongue over the little bud.

He thought Beatrice might leave the mattress after that first swipe of his tongue. He did not know what she felt but he could say for damn sure he felt ready to combust. He did not think that beast between his legs had ever been quite so engorged or ready to explode. He hoped she was as ready as he was. When he entered her there was a distinct possibility his control would be nil.

Beatrice began to thrust her hips up and down. Purely by accident his finger slid into the opening just below where that little bud he had been stroking was located. When Beatrice cried out followed by several pleas for things he was sure she would blush about later Erik could not help but feel pride that he brought her to this point of ecstasy. Who was he to deny a woman's requests? Erik obliged her pleas eagerly.

Not having any experience of the workings of a woman's body Erik experimented. Just when he had become intent on her pleasure as well as learning all the little places that held a woman's secrets, Beatrice jolted him by taking his stiff shaft in her hand. When he felt her fingers curl around him he thought this must be when God ended his life. She set up a rhythm and motion with her hand that coincided with the thrusts of her hips against his hand. Looking into her face Erik could see that Beatrice was in some sensual world beyond earthly bonds. She writhed and twisted her hips.

He had little time before he lost his own bonds with this earthly plane. Watching her sensual agony fed his own. Parting her with a knee between hers Erik settled between her thighs. He thrust into her calling out her name in lustful tones. While joined with her there were no others who existed. Only the two of them inhabited this world.

This time Erik did not need to worry or wonder if he would give her the same joyous sensations she gave him. Beatrice and he were wild with the need to reach that highest plateau.

She called out in her rapture as well as gave him praise in quite plain language which would normally belong in the gutter but even that drove him to a higher plain. Hands and mouths touched everywhere. They began to thrust in unison forcefully. The bed began to creak and groan as if it too were in the throws of passion.

The grotto which usually only echoed with the notes of music, now sounds of moans and groans bounced around the walls. Erik's ego shot up several notches as Beatrice continued to intersperse her pants of pleasure with words all men wish to hear at such intimate moments. By the time they reached their climax Erik could almost believe he had invented this form of intimate exchange between men and women.

A well learned lesson was handed to Erik by Beatrice during their exchange. It was not the man who seek his pleasure only, but let the woman guide him to her pleasure. The two were intertwined. If a man gave his partner what she needed he not only received the benefit of pleasure alone but the knowledge his woman thought him a man beyond men.

Beatrice felt as if she had left the world she knew and had been transported to some wondrous place where everything was marvelous sensual sensations. She had bit her lip trying to keep back the cries of rapture from escaping her mouth. The feeling had been far too overpowering. As she climbed higher trying to reach some elusive goal Beatrice had done things, said things, that never would she believe she would dare.

Erik had created this sensual being. He had clicked some switch inside her. She would never go back to that woman who had lain immobile while some man took his pleasure from her body while giving her nothing but fear and bruises in return. Little nips on her skin sent shockwaves to her very center. Lawrence had only left marks and mistrust behind. Erik had gone down below her waist to the place Lawrence had neglected to even touch when he came to claim her.

When she had felt the first slide of Erik's tongue between her folds she had thought she would lose any sanity she could lay claim to. Her mind had shot off in so many directions wanting so many things at once. To her disbelief as well as her joy, Erik had seemed to know every desire she had left unspoken.

Once the fire had been stoked to an inferno Beatrice had lost all control. Such things had come out of her that she did not know she had even any knowledge of. She did not even know where she had learned most of what she had said. She had sounded like some lady at court instructing her minion how to please her. Erik had indeed pleased her. She had just come to an earth shattering climax when she felt Erik's own climax fill her with his seed.

They lay panting, too exhausted to move or speak. The act of breathing took all their reserves. Beatrice wound her arms around Erik when she felt him move so he would not crush her. She craved the weight of him against her. She wanted to hold him inside of her as long as she could until every last ripple of release quieted within her core.

She felt herself still pulsating around him as little aftershocks still held her in their grip. Eventually she did relax but still did not want to let him go. She feared having such an earth shattering experience. Something so wonderful in her experience had to have some terrible counterpoint. She had not had very many moments of happiness but the few she did have were overshadowed immediately by some dark cloud bringing turmoil into her life.

Losing Erik now could be the only cloud on her horizon that would devastate her at this time. To lose him now would tear away her fragile new beginning. Surely fate would not be so cruel. As she and Erik spoke softly later after having taken turns at the tub to refresh themselves, Beatrice could not help the thoughts that prayed on her mind.

If Christine were to come back now all would be lost. Erik's new confidence would either give him the courage to challenge Raoul once again or simply take Christine and go far beyond their reach. Beatrice had enough proof of her intuition at other times that to ignore them now would be foolish. How could she prepare herself for losing Erik? Would he even give her a thought if they were to be separated?

She chided herself for her silly worries. They were buried under a building weighing tons. What did she have to worry about? Christine and the others were hundreds of miles away somewhere in England. She and Erik were safe from even the Paris police and gendarmes.

Beatrice could not control her dreams that night. Erik woke her during a particularly agonizing sequence that had Christine and Erik leaving her standing in a very dark place. They had turned and laughed at her while telling her she could not hold someone like Erik. What did she have that would keep his affections? The couple embracing as they kissed fervently clenched Beatrice's heart as if it were in a seizure. Searing pain sliced right through the center of her heart.

In the dream her chest had actually opened to show her beating heart slowly come apart. That was the point Erik had awoken her. She had hugged Erik to her tightly as if she held him close enough nothing could come between them. Erik did not object to her reaction but was puzzled by it.

The feel of her arms wrapped around his waist felt quite possessive. He could say for sure he did not mind in the least. No one had wanted to possess anything belonging to him other than his head on a platter or his heart on a skewer. Hoping to allay whatever had upset her, Erik wrapped his own arms around Beatrice. They fell asleep entwined as lovers.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hope to get my legal matters settled soon. If hubby doesn't make a big stink things can be settled peacefully despite his underhanded methods. I only want what is fair and peace in the family. I don't want a war. Please pray things go well for me. I need some peace. Without my writing and a few specilal friends I'd have done something stupid by now. Enjoy Erik as I have. **

**Chapter Fourteen**

**The Past Revisited**

Erik could say that the next few days were the happiest of his life. Beatrice did not deny him anything. Sometimes he was not even aware his body signaled to hers that he would not mind sharing intimacies. One of the greatest gifts she had given to him had been the night she told him in greater detail about her life with her father and her husband Lawrence.

If her father had not already abscounded like the cowardly dog he was Erik thought he might have paid a nocturnal visit to the man he would not soon forget. As for the monster masquerading as her husband he would do well to thank Beatrice for having already sent him to his just reward as if Erik had gotten a hold of him a nightmare world of torture would have been in store for Lawrence. Erik and torture were old friends as well as old foes.

Keeping to her word she did not try to remove his mask. Erik himself found it an intrusion as he had on the roof but hesitated letting Beatrice see him fully again any time soon. He felt more naked without his mask that he did without his clothing. He debated with himself every night about letting Beatrice see all of him. Better she see him now so she could decide with full knowledge of what he was, to stay with him or go.

He'd not force her into anything. That lesson had finally sunk into his brain. Love if it needs to be forced out of another is not love at all. Perhaps that is why he failed with Christine. He had tried to force an emotion from her she had not been ready to give him. In hindsight he began to think she might never have come to care for him, not as he wanted or needed.

He dare not put a name to what he felt for Beatrice in fear of bringing down the furies on him and the fragile new beginning he had with her. For the past two weeks Beatrice had seemed almost desperate in her affections. Every now and then he would catch her looking around as if she expected someone to show themselves at any moment. Her unease fueled his own.

He had been making the rounds regularly. He saw no signs of intruders. All he came across were odds and ends left behind as if in haste to leave things were forgotten. Soon they could go above. He checked the catacombs where prisoners were usually held. Every cell was empty. An eerie silence permeated every corner of the opera house. Erik hoped this was not the quiet before the storm. Shelling had ceased almost a month ago. The dust that had sifted down toward the lake had at last dissipated leaving only the normal musty smell of damp behind. Erik now dreaded the day Beatrice could return to her world. A world that had never offered him any welcome at any time in his life.

Erik found himself reluctant to let her out of his sight for more than a few minutes. When they were together he found himself hovering around her. It irritated him that one person had come to be the center of his world again. It left him vulnerable in a way he had sworn he would never allow again.

Christine had not been in his thoughts again after a few weeks as he and Beatrice came to know one another better. Now Christine seemed to be on his mind every day as well as in his dreams. It made him feel guilty as if he betrayed Beatrice in some way. It was ridiculous of course as they were not committed in any real way. What they had was only temporary.

Once Paris returned to normal she would be gone from his life, back to her world among the others who lived above. The depressive feeling these thoughts brought about worried him. He did not wish to ever experience the kind of torment he had suffered when Christine had left.

As a result of Erik's fear of being left devastated once more he began to pull away from Beatrice. Where just days ago she could not turn around without bumping into him now he disappeared without telling her he would be gone and would not return until time to retire. The only place Beatrice felt certain she had all of Erik for a while was when they came together during the night. He lavished attention on her during their lovemaking. He seemed almost as desperate as she to savor every moment of this newfound closeness. They both were storing memories fearing a time when this must end.

Beatrice admitted that she did not want to ever be without Erik. He had filled a place in her that she had not even known lay barren. He showed her what it should be between a man and a woman. She loved him. It was as simple and as complicated as that. Erik would have a hard time accepting that he could be loved. Even before Christine his outlook on humanity and his acceptance in the world had been bleak. Little tendernes had been shown to him. How could he be expected to know how to give to others what he had never been given?

As each day passed Beatrice waited for some sign, some small gesture or verbal declaration that Erik felt as she did. Nothing had been forthcoming. Beatrice began her own withdrawal from Erik. She must shore up her defenses now or perish from the pain later. Once this process began, even their nights of love tapered until the bed at night seemed as cold as their hearts. Both were preparing for the day of final separation. Come it must as things returned to normal.

Erik knew Raoul and the others would come for Beatrice. They would want to remove her from his monstrous sphere of influence. In their minds he could only be the feared Opera Ghost or Phantom, rightly so perhaps, but had he not changed even a miniscule bit? He had not harmed Beatrice after all. His blood ran hot when he thought of all the things he had done to her and with her. He wasn't ashamed of anything they had done but it still had not been very gentlemanly to take advantage of her in the way he had.

His discomfort turned to the heat of awakening desire as his mind played different scenarios from the past few weeks. There could not be many more ways for two people to enjoy one another. Once the gates had opened both Erik and Beatrice had learned to be creative. As of yet they had not found anything that did not bring about intense reactions in them. The only thing they had yet to share was being privy to what Erik hid under his mask, at least freely shared. The last couple of days he had gone back and forth listing pros and cons.

On some level he felt it did not matter as once she left more than likely he would never see her again. Why should he put himself through having her look at him knowing what everyone thought once they saw the ugliness that God had molded into what should have been a pleasing face. His gypsy captors had delighted in torturing him with the near perfection of his right side with the twisted, malformed left side that made up a contrast of demon and angel.

For whatever reason, Erik wanted Beatrice to see him as he really was. He wanted no barriers between them when they made love. He had come to accept that they made love to one another and not merely rutted together for satiation's sake. They may have started to pull apart as a form of protection but that did not change what they held in their hearts. Beatrice would not behave with him as she did if she felt nothing. He had begun to learn more about her than he even knew about Christine.

Every time they came together Erik felt something warm and healing weaving around his broken heart. He almost felt whole again. He knew and accepted that some part of him would always keep Christine as a cherished memory but he no longer felt she was the one who would set his soul free.

Little by little Erik had felt the links in his chains coming undone. They were not all broken as of yet but with time Erik felt Beatrice would sever the last bond tying him to his this was what love was supposed to be Erik opened his arms and heart to it freely. Now if he could find the words to tell Beatrice how he felt and ask if she might regard him in the same light.

Every time he wanted to bring the subject out in the open some force locked his voice in his throat. If he were to be lucky, when he went to her without his mask and she did not turn him away, that would be explanation enough. Logically he knew that she had already seen him as he truly was but still to have to make love looking at the atrocity that was his face at such close quarters could cool any heated emotions to ice.

Not being familiar with women and their little foibles such as needing words of love from the one who had their heart in the palm of their hand, Erik thought that his tender lovemaking said all that needed to be told. For whatever time they had left he would make certain Beatrice felt his love for her in every kiss upon her lips and every touch of his hand upon her flesh. He would try to give her the words he felt she might need

Erik had bathed after Beatrice as was their ritual. He held his mask between his hands running his finger over the smoothness. There had been a time when madness overwhelmed him, he had thought to meld the mask with his skin permanently. Some glimmer of sanity had kept him from committing such a horrid act. Tossing his mask to the side it landed carelessly on a chair. Not looking back he strode purposefully toward where he knew he would find Beatrice. Knowing if he looked back at his mask he would lose his nerve and rush back replacing his shield, determinedly he keep his feet heading in the direction of his love, his heart.

Beatrice did not give any indication anything was amiss by so much as twitch of her eyes. She smiled broadly lifting the edge of the covers in invitation. Erik eagerly joined her. Once he had seen there was to be no reaction of horror or disgust he wanted to pounce on the bed like a child with relief. He felt like shouting from the rooftops that Beatrice Tolliver had accepted him, all of him, without so much as a blink of an eye. For that gift alone Erik would kneel in worship at her feet if she wished him to do so.

The only demand she made was for him to take his pleasure as he pleasured her in return. Erik gladly obliged, several times. For the first time in his life he felt truly accepted and loved, yes, love damn it, love given and returned. He could not be certain but he thought he had even whispered the words to her as he brought them to climatic splender.

Beatrice could feel all those emotions coming from Erik as he made love to her. In the heat of the moment she had thought she heard him declare his love but could not be sure it had not been her own fevered imagination. They still had time. She wished he could tell her in words. For now it would have to be enough that he showed her. Erik leaving his mask off in her presence was tantamount to a declaration for him. He never removed it even when he worked and sweat would roll out from underneath it in rivulets if he knew she was within sight of him.

She would cherish this as the night Erik had laid claim to her heart and soul. She had felt love coming to her slowly over time. She had not given her heart to him fully even when they first came together. It had taken time for both of them to gain trust in the other. Too much hurt had been suffered to give another so much control over to another person. Beatrice now would place her life in Erik's hands without reservations if he asked it of her.

Worry about the future could come tomorrow. Raoul would come for her once things had settled into quiet for a few months. The way he and Erik felt toward one another would not allow Raoul to see Erik as she did. He had good reason not to trust or even like Erik. Christine cared for Erik but he frightened her even as he mesmerized her.

Meg only saw Erik as a man, one not without his flaws. She also saw some redeeming qualities in him. Beatrice had come to know that Meg tried her best to see the good in everyone. She made allowances for the errors in judgment people made. To be honest Erik had so many flaws and not only his face. His face did not matter. It was his temper and malice against anyone who he thought a threat that still bothered Beatrice.

Even understanding his side of things Beatrice admitted what Erik had done was an awful thing. The level of violence he had taken just for the sake of gaining a woman's love spoke of a mind not thinking clearly. She hoped that side of Erik had been tamed as he told her he had buried his two personas, the Opera Ghost and Phantom.

She snuggled closer to Erik not wanting to think too much. She'd rather enjoy these moments they held one another relaxed and content with their lives. Life could change in the blink of an eye. She knew this all too well. She had gone from a somewhat happy woman to the depths of hell in less than a few months. Just as quickly it seemed her happiness had been given back to her. She owed that to Erik. He made her happier than she had ever been.

If anyone had told her she would choose to stay buried underground with a crazed phantom, Beatrice would have scoffed and asked what they had been drinking. She'd have declared them insane if they told her that not only would she be living with this man but she would take him to her bed and welcome him with open arms. She would have asked if they suffered from delusions.

How quickly life changed gave Beatrice reason to doubt this could last for long. Nothing good ever did. She'd be content to live out her days with her memories. At least she hoped they would sustain her. She would have railed at the fates if she knew just how little time she had left with Erik. She would not have spent her time in rest had she known this would be their last night.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Reluctantly Rescued**

After a sparse breakfast Erik told Beatrice he needed to make his rounds of the opera house. The last time there had been no sign of any people. He wanted to be certain before he relaxed his guard, or as much as a man of Erik's temperament could relax. Leaving Beatrice that morning had been hard as she had clung to him as if he would not be coming back. She had even had tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

He had almost said to hell with it but knew he could not take the chance of having someone coming down to the lower levels evn if they could not find his home they could become a victim of one of his traps. With his fledgling love for Beatrice warming his heart Erik found he did not wish any harm to come to anyone. If he did find anyone wandering about he could use an old tactic of misdirecting the person by sound. If they went where he wished them to go they would find freedom, if not...well then something else would await them.

It took a good two hours to check all the main areas. It would have taken longer if Erik did not have his passageways. Debating with himself about returning to Beatrice or making a trip out into the streets Erik stood indecisively. He should make his way around to the shops as food was pretty low. He imagined most of Paris had little or nothing to eat. Erik knew those who dealt in the less savory side of life. They ran the illegal businesses of Paris. Selling black market goods was a very lucrative business. Until France resumed trade with other countries and once again received shipments goods things would be still unsafe when small shipments did reach Paris. Likely there would be a run on everything resulting in more violence.

Those men from the darker side of Paris would have horded foodstuff expecting times to get desperate. When people became desperate enough they were willing to sell whatever they had for next to nothing. A necklace worth a fortune could purchase a loaf of bread with perhaps a chunk of cheese if the dealer felt in a charitable mood with a bottle of cheap wine.

Erik would visit one of those men. He shouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours. Beatrice should be fine on her own for a short time. No one could find their way down here since he had closed off all the exits to the above floors except the few that were impossible to get to unless you knew just where to step to avoid Erik's deadly traps.

Instead of taking the tunnel that would lead him back to his boat Erik took one that lead to Christine's old dressing room. The mirror opened at the press from his finger on the mechanism. It opened silently. Only for a moment did Erik let memories of Christine seep into his mind. He brushed them aside to fill his head with more pleasant thoughts from more resent times. Beatrice had given him so much in so short a time.

Erik hurried his step. He would pay a visit to the jeweler. He and Beatrice may not love one another devotedly quite yet, but he did care for her and wanted to solidify their relationship by proposing marriage to her. If they continued with this physical relationship a child was a distinct possibility. Erik did not know if he had changed his views about producing offspring but his careless actions may have taken that decision out of his hands.

Once in the corridor of the main floor Erik strode through the empty building cautiously. He heard no one anywhere. The echo of his boots was the only sound. If Erik had not wanted to be heard he would have glided along as a silent shadow. Surely if anyone were here they would call out. Erik heard not even the rustle of a rat. He could not leave by way of the front door so he made his way to a back door that opened into an alley.

Pulling the hood of his cloak up around his head Erik walked down the alley to where it intersected with the Boulevard which ran in front of the opera house. The streets were crowded with people. Among them were soldiers. No one seemed to be about to cause a confrontation. It would appear some sort of cease fire had been declared and Parisians were taking advantage of the calm to go about their beloved city checking on friends and relatives.

The search for food was of premium concern. As Erik traveled among the hurrying pedestrians he listened in on conversations. It would seem this was not a temporary cease fire but the war had come to an end. There were still soldiers around but no one was being dragged from their homes or shot for being out in the streets if caught without the proper papers. Supplies were beginning to trickle in from the borders but not nearly as quickly as the desperate citizens would have liked. Shops which had closed their doors for the last five or six months had large signs in the windows announcing business would resume as usual immediately.

The prices on what goods there were Erik considered robbery. He had his own merchants he always dealt with. He dealt with the ones who sold what was in the front of the shop but also what goods were stored in the back or in a hidden cellar.

Those shops tended to have several men dressed as any normal Parisian would. The difference being, these men were burly with a look of menace about them. The fact that they hung around the same shop also pointed out to the observant what their real agenda was. They were there to protect the owner and enforce whatever punishment their boss deemed fit to anyone who committed a transgression.

Erik went to the back of the pawnshop he often frequented when he planned to court Christine. He had sold off everything to this man's competitor as Erik had not wished to have any need for an explanation as to why he would be returning such fine jewelry after his eagerness to purchase it in the beginning.

Erik nodded to the three burley men standing at the back door smoking. They gravely nodded back in his direction. There was no need for an exchange of words. He did not waste time with useless cordiality. He stated what he wanted then chose from the selection shown to him. Erik fingered the ring he held between his fingers. Failure to purchase a ring for Christine perhaps had been his inner voice trying to make him see how hopeless it had been to pursue Christine.

He still had Christine's ring, or rather the one he had stolen off her neck, forced into her hand in his lair then she had given it back to him just before she left him. He did not feel it appropriate to give a woman a ring intended for another. The significance of that ring Erik felt had become tainted with time. It did not represent Christine's silent plea for fogiveness or her promise to return to him. It was now only a ring with little value to him.

This new ring would adorn the finger of a woman willingly or not at all. For once in his life Erik felt confident about a woman's affection for him. If she felt nothing she would not welcome him to her bed. Indeed she would not initiate the encounters as she sometimes did. Beatrice had given Erik so much, but the greatest gift had been his manhood, his pride in himself. She made him feel he was more than what the world saw. Beatrice saw all that was in his heart and soul.

Smiling to himself Erik quickened his pace. He wanted to place this ring on her finger before they made love again. The next time they were together there would be tangible evidence of their affection and regard for one another. He no longer saw a dismal future ahead of him. Life would now be filled with light and with continued good luck they may discover that all elusive emotion, love, at least elusve when in connection with him.

Beatrice had awakened this morning with a feeling of some unnamed dread. When Erik had told her he would be making his usual rounds she wanted to cling to him holding him and never letting go. In the end she had deferred to his wishes to inspect his domain. He felt he must inspect and patrol every tunnel as well as the opera house above. She had learned that Erik did feel as if this whole place belonged to him. Who loved it more than he did?

Having just taken her bath and dried her hair by the fire she had been going to sit and read until Erik's return when she thought she heard voices drifting up from the tunnel to the outside. Her heart began to pound. Other than Erik and herself, there were only three other people who knew the safe path into Erik's home.

For one silly moment Beatrice considered hiding from them. She did not wish to go. Raoul would expect her to be eager to leave, to rejoin him in the land of light. Only dread of leaving Erik filled her heart. She prayed for Erik's return although that might not be such a good thing as Erik and Raoul were bound to come to blows.

Beatrice went to the edge of the shore to await her unwanted guests. Not that she would not love to see Raoul, it was just that she knew her time here with Erik had come to an end. She couldn't very well object to Raoul fetching her or expecting her to be eager to leave with him. She would have to leave with Raoul. If he knew of the intimacy between her and Erik, Raoul would feel honor bound to challenge Erik in some way. She wanted neither man to be hurt because of her.

If she were a braver woman she would be able to stand firm as she explained things to Raoul. As it was she felt tied in knots inside. She would go with them. Erik would come for her she was sure. Had they not established a deep bond between them? Surely he would not let her go so easily? No, he would come for her. She would simply wait until he whisked her back to where she belonged.

As soon as the boat's nose touched the dock Raoul jumped from the bow onto the shore. He embraced Beatrice asking question after question about her months in the bowels of the opera house. He enquired about Erik and his treatment of her. Having assured himself she had come to no further harm Raoul told her to collect only that which she felt she could not be without. Everything else would be left in gratitude for Erik's watching over her. Raoul was so set on removing her from this place he did not seem to register that she and Erik were occupying the same space with only one bed in the area.

Christine who had come with Raoul hoping to curb any bloodshed was more observant. She raised her brows in inquiry. She would not dare bring this subject up while Raoul was present. Later she would question Beatrice quite thoroughly.

Beatrice tried to stall hoping Erik would return while at the same time fearing that he would. Raoul refused all her offers to make a pot of tea or anything to eat. He wanted to get out of this place that held many unpleasant memories.

Christine had hoped to see Erik. She wanted to make amends for the way things had gone during her last visit. Erik had blame on his side but so did they. They had been the ones invading his home making demands of him.

Antoinette had rightly suggested that she and Meg stay at the estate to await their return. The fewer people invading Erik's home the better. Raoul had reluctantly agreed Christine may have some calming influence upon her former tutor. Lord knew Raoul and Erik tended to butt heads whenever they came withing spitting distance of one another.

Beatrice had only gathered a few things. Nothing here mattered to her really. What mattered most to her was not an object but a person, one who would continue to have her heart even while she herself would be gone. As Raoul poled them away in his boat Beatrice looked backward until she could no longer see Erik's home, her home she felt as well.

He would not even know how she had left as the boat she used would still be there. What if he thought she had simply tired of living with him? Surely after what they had shared he would know, he could not think she would just up and leave? Damn it she had not even left him a note. With all her heart she prayed Erik would know she had not left because she did not care. She had to believe he would come for her. She could not make it through life without him. Erik had embedded himself deeply within her heart. She loved him. Too late the realization came to her. Why had she not recognized that what they had transcended mere friendship of affection?

Erik came poling down toward home feeling a sense of coming home as never before. He even had a feeling of expectancy tripping his heart into a lifely rhythm. A whim had him singing a love song for Beatrice. He poured every ounce of what he felt for her into the words. He lifted his voice to a level the angel's in Gods kingdom could hear. He anticipated seeing Beatrice waiting on shore with a welcoming smile on her beautiful face. Coming around the bend Erik felt his heart lurch at the quiet deserted look of the place. There was no appealing aroma of anything cooking. It seemed so cold even with the fire burning cheerily in the fireplace.

Hopping out of the boat Erik didn't even bother to tie it off as he raced through his home shouting for Beatrice. She was gone. Looking about frantically for a note Erik found nothing. He noted the few articles of clothing and personal items missing. God what a fool he had been. She had waited only long enough for him to be gone for a substantial time so she could leave.

Erik felt rage and anguish warring within him. Rage won out at first. He tore his home apart. The mob had left him with nothing but a few pieces. Erik's rage left nothing behind in the wake of his anger. Having expended his anger the anguish took over dropping him to the stone floor. He sobbed out his heartbreak for a woman once more. This time felt more like death had claimed him. He had shared his very inner being with Beatrice. He had opened his damaged heart to her. He had taken a chance and lost once again.

He railed at God, Beatrice and Christine by turns. When he could stand the agony no longer he turned to the bottle for forgetfulness. He climbed into the bottle and did not come out for many weeks. Only when he had no more wine available did he stop using it as an antidote to cauterize the bleeding wounds Beatrice had left on his heart. He did not have the energy or the will to leave his home to seek more of the bottles that erased broken dreams and numbed broken hearts.

He was alone once more. This loneliness felt much more wounding than when he lost Christine as he had shared with Beatrice the most beautiful of human experiences. He felt bound to her even in her absence. Once Erik had sobbed until no more tears would come he had pulled himself up to make his way through the damage. It was then he saw the other prints in the dirt covering some of the stones of his floor.

One set was definitely a man but not his own print, the size was a bit smaller. The other inprint had been made by a woman's shoe. Beatrice had only the boots. It then became clear that Raoul had come back for Beatrice. Why had she gone willingly? On further consideration she could not very well proclaim she and the Phantom were lovers so leave her be. No, she would go with them, perhaps leaving him a note someplace, then when she could manage it she would return to him.

Erik tore his home apart once more trying to find a scrap of paper that Beatrice might have used to leave him even a couple or warming words. He found nothing just as he knew he would. His spirits sank to the fiery pits of hell once more. She could not have loved him. If she had there would have been some message. Something to let him know she would be returning. Erik waited another month looking every day for some sign Beatrice was coming. He went to the Rue Scribb entrance so many times he could have worn a path in the stones.

Once more Erik became a ghost haunting the opera house as the workers came back to mend the broken monument to the arts. If only they could mend a broken man who had returned to his ghostly haunting.

**A/N: Just an update on the soapopera my life has become. Bastard Man (soon to be ex) came without me knowing and cleaned the garage of everything of value. All I am left with is the bills and mortgage. No savings or checking to speak of. He took all the money and I don't work. Tomrrow I meet with my lawyer. The lawyer took the greater portion of what money I did have. Hope we can establish some support for me. It is going on two months and I have received only $200. Lucky for me I was saving for a car and had that money separate. Things will get better. I have to believe that in order to carry on.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

**A Love Worth Fighting For**

Two months Beatrice had been with Raoul with not a word from Erik. As the days drifted by Beatrice became less sure Erik intended to come. After another month her spirits began to flag. She went to bed weary of spirit and awoke with little interest in ever opening her eyes again. In the confusion of leaving Beatrice had also forgotten Hummer. Only when they had emerged into the alleyway had she come to her senses enough to protest leaving as she had.

Raoul would not be swayed to allow her to return for Hummer or to leave some word for Erik. He felt it better to get as far from Paris as they could by nightfall. Christine cast Beatrice sympathetic glances. Not knowing exactly what had transpired between the two she could only imagine what it would be like to be under Erik's spell day and night for so many months. Even when he had been at his most frightening his magnetism had been felt by her. Beatrice had not looked like a woman eager to leave the dreary underground. From the looks of Erik's home it had become a very different place. It still had the romantic overtone from many candles but subtle changes had been added to incorporate modern touches.

Much to Raoul's consternation Beatrice had cried the whole way to the inn. Even then she had sniffled and could be heard through the thin wall crying long into the night. It had been nearly daybreak before Raoul had finally dropped off to sleep upon hearing silence from the next room.

A very silent dispirited Beatrice had partaken of the morning meal that next morning eating little food as she pushed it from one spot on the plate to another. Raoul told her about the case thus far concerning Lawrence. Luck was with Beatrice as the chief inspector who had initially investigated her husband's case had been promoted after the cease fire. He was now in charge of all the precincts on the upper side of Paris. He would be far too busy getting comfortable in his new position to worry about an old murder case.

The new inspector had come into a mess. Files had been ransacked leaving little that was of any use. All the papers had been shuffled together then put randomly into folders. He could make neither heads nor tails of the confusing mess. It would take a year of concentrated effort to even begin to weed through the chaos. By then everyone involved in cases would have moved on or died. Deciding to begin with a clean slate he had shucked everything out that could not be put immediately into its proper file. Beatrice's husband's file was among those to be tossed into the fire.

They all breathed easier when no one came looking for Beatrice. All except for the lady in question. She had such a sad forlorn look about her in view of the fact that by some miracle she would remain free to go about the rest of her life without worry. She could not bring herself to care. One would think Raoul had imparted a death sentence for a beloved family member instead of her freedom.

Antoinette and Meg returned for a visit. Meg observed this shadow of a woman closely. After Christine had told her all that had transpired Meg began to wonder if Beatrice's lack of interest in anything stemmed from the fact that she had come to care for Erik.

She did seem to be a woman pining for love if not a lover. Remembering how she herself had felt as she watched the Phantom sing to Christine on stage during Point of no Return she could understand if Beatrice had formed some attachment to the man.

Thinking about how distraught Beatrice was Meg felt it was a very strong emotion that haunted her new friend. From the few times she had seen the man he had impressed her with his innate ability to draw a person while being unaware of his own attraction.

Christine had told her she still felt shivers when she recalled his voice and touch. That was even after they had brought Beatrice back home. If he could affect Christine in that way what would he do to a woman exposed to him day in and day out for months? Flashes of heat went through her own body in recognition of the man's power to sway a woman's emotions even against her will.

This could not continue. Beatrice was pining herself into an early grave. Raoul and everyone worried for her mental and physical health but could think of nothing to help her as they had no idea what troubled her. Meg had an idea but needed to be certain. She would catch Beatrice alone then broach the subject as gently as she could.

Meg was not known for her tact. She had a kind loving heart but let her honesty come out in her speech when tact would serve her better.

It took a couple of days for Meg to catch her quarry alone in the garden. The sun was bright and the day fairly warm. Beatrice did not seem to care about or enjoy either aspect of the day.

Meg sat down in the chair beside Beatrice. She did not even turn her head in Meg's direction or otherwise acknowledge Meg's presence.

"So why haven't you gone back to him?" Meg could have bitten her tongue out. That was not how she had rehearsed things in her head. She had planned to ease into conversation concerning the opera house. Now she had simply blurted out the crux of her query without any finesse at all.

Beatrice turned to look at Meg questioningly. "What…what do you mean? What…what man?" Beatrice could feel the telltale tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She had managed not to cry in front of the others for nearly a week and had been glad to be able to at last hide her pain. Now here was Meg poking into a sore spot that had not healed.

Meg sighed then turned toward Beatrice to say, "Beatrice I hope you know I would never wish to say anything to hurt you. I only mean to help. I have been observing you ever since mother and I came back. While not a gay woman by any means before, now you are downright melancholy. You at times look so much like death has claimed you in all but taking your actual life.

I just thought that perhaps it had something to do with Erik. I know how devastating he can be even when you fear him. I haven't had any close personal contact with him. My only real experience of his power has been from watching him and Christine on stage.

I blush when I remember the thoughts going through my mind as I listened to him. I believe every woman in that opera house wished they could have been in Christine's place, well that is until he cut down the chandelier.

So tell me, do you have some feelings toward Erik? Pardon me if I enter into areas of a personal nature but I cannot continue to sit idly by while you waste away.

If this is due to something that happened between you and Erik I will listen without judgment to anything you wish to say. Let me help you. If this is to do with Erik tell me what I can do to help you."

Meg's voice had softened to a mere whisper. She had noticed that as she spoke Beatrice's face had taken on an even greater sadness. After coming to the end of her little speech Meg sat holding Beatrice's cold hands.

Without warning Beatrice broke into sobs as she told Meg in disjointed sentences what had taken place over the last few months that she had spent with Erik. As she spoke her voice gained strength and passion. Before long Beatrice found herself nearly shouting out as pain gripped her once again in a tight vice.

Meg got a clearer picture by filling in the blanks. Beatrice did not need to speak of anything in explicit terms as Meg could guess how easily a woman could fall under Erik's spell if in his presence on a daily basis. Just the few times she had seen him her heart had beat faster and her knees had gone weak.

Telling Beatrice to dry her eyes and blow her nose Meg soothed her with calming strokes of her hand down Beatrice's back. When she thought Beatrice had control she began to make her proposal. What Meg suggested was that if Beatrice felt that strongly about Erik why not take the risk and go back to at least get an explanation why he did not come for her.

With Erik's past Meg told her that he more than likely thought Beatrice had cut and run. He would believe that she had come to realize she could not live underground with him anymore or grew sickened by his face. When Beatrice looked angrily toward Meg, hurriedly Meg had to reassure her that she had not meant that Erik was unacceptable in any way but that he would see himself as such.

Because no one had left him any sort of note explaining anything of course his first thoughts would be that once again he had been rejected. From what her mother had told her of him, Erik tended to see and think the worst in any given situation. His treatment had not been kind or gentle from those he had in his life as a child and as a man.

Perhaps her mother had been his first bit of kindness from any human being. Christine had wanted to show him he was not the monster he thought himself to be but she had wounded him deeply with her betrayal then her departure with Raoul.

Why should he think anything other than Beatrice had tired of her monster lover? That is how Erik saw himself, a monster, a repulsive gargoyle, a beast. Christine had heard him call himself those things.

Recovering somewhat Beatrice asked tearfully, "If you know these horrible things he has done and the threats he made to your sister and Raoul why would you help me? Do you not hate him as everyone else does?"

"Oh not everyone hates him believe me. Erik won a lot of hearts that night. As for me I don't see things in black or white. I see all the shades of grey in-between.

Erik is by no means an easy person to know. Christine thought of him as an angel for a long time, but then Christine does love her fairy tales. Now me, I would have suspected right away that the voice coming to me from out of thin air was someone pulling some prank. Christine is of a more pliable mind.

I am a romantic at heart. I can tell you that when Raoul first came and things happened I was torn as to who I thought Christine should have chosen.

Knowing Raoul as I do now I believe she made the correct choice for her. Erik would have beaten her down with his strong personality. Even when he was trying to win her he frightened her.

I would love to know, but I won't ask how the two of you came together. I can imagine what sort of responses Erik can bring out in a woman. He had us all eating out of his hand that night. God help the woman who had to resist him at close quarters. No offence, I am just stating the truth. Erik is one, pardon my language, he is one hell of a man.

So do we go to Paris tonight or do you sit here every day until the birds begin to perch on your shoulder thinking you are a statue?"

Laughing shakily as she wiped her eyes Beatrice launched herself at Meg to hug her tightly as she cried out that she wanted Erik. Please take her to Erik.

Meg told Beatrice they had to act normal. For Beatrice that meant being a morose, sad eyed wraith. For Meg it meant a jolly good time fooling the others.

Meg bribed a stable boy to hook up a horse to a buggy. He wouldn't say anything as he would lose his position if Raoul found out he could be so easily bribed.

After everyone had gone to bed Meg snuck out of her room to tap lightly on Beatrice's door. She jumped back half frightened out of her wits as the door flew open so suddenly Meg had no time to collect herself.

Calming herself Meg placed her finger over her lips. She lifted a lantern to show Beatrice things were going to work out just fine, she had thought of everything.

Well she had been confident until they actually sat in the seat of the buggy with the reins in Meg's less than confident hands. She had neglected to remember she had never driven a buggy before. She had ridden in one countless times. That unfortunately did not qualify one to drive one.

Beatrice had shaken her head when Meg asked if she knew how to guide the thing. There was nothing for it, she'd have to learn as she went. That might hinder her time schedule but she'd worry about that later.

A ride that would normally have taken an hour and a half had taken three hours. Both women were a little green by the time they reached the outskirts of Paris.

They still had plenty of time before the sun came up. Raoul would be sure to head straight here once he discovered Meg and Beatrice missing as well as a buggy. It would take him some time to piece everything together but he eventually would. Raoul was an intelligent man.

Meg guided the buggy to the Rue Scribbe side of the opera house. She thanked her lucky stars no one had met them in the streets. The alley was empty as well.

Clamoring down with more haste than grace they went to the iron gate that led to the tunnels below the building. Meg struck a match to light the lantern. At least she had remembered that.

They entered the cold damp tunnel. Meg tried to remember the way. With Beatrice's help they found the tunnel with the carved gargoyles. They passed quickly through this tunnel as it seemed every eye on the statues followed their every movement.

Something or someone was indeed following them. His first leap of joy at the sight of Beatrice had turned to anger. Had she come to taunt him for his failure to keep her? Did she come to gloat over her life in the light while he moldered in his lonely darkness? If so she would feel his wrath. He may just take his revenge out on her. Why not? His soul could not be any less bound for hell.

Erik knew in his heart of hearts he could never harm a hair on Beatrice's head no matter what she had done to him. He wanted to touch her so badly he ached with the need. Only for the sake of his pride would he think of doing anything that would cause Beatrice any harm.

He curled his hands into tight fists. He would follow them to make certain no harm came to either of them. Erik had heard his alarm go off as soon as they had opened the gate. He had thought some vagrant had dared enter his domain uninvited. Instead it had been the woman his heart had been yearning for all these months.

Christine's leaving had nearly killed him. When Beatrice had left he had been angry, then devastated and lastly a mere shell that moved about, he had become a ghost in all but fact.

Now she dared to come back here to torment him. Not one word from her in all these months. For all he knew she could have found some other man to warm her bed. That thought had him nearly reaching out so he could throttle her. He restrained himself.

So far both women had been quiet. They had to concentrate on where they stepped as well as make sure they were not going in circles.

When Meg led Beatrice down one of his more treacherous tunnels Erik could not let his love fall into that pit. Running ahead to the next panel that opened into the tunnel Erik waited patiently for them to pass then he tripped the mechanism to open the door. Reaching out he grabbed Beatrice around the throat with his arm. He held her only tight enough to ensure she could not get away from him.

"Erik!" Beatrice gasped in surprise. She should have known he would be aware of them the moment they had stepped into the tunnel. For a moment she felt so damned glad to have him this close that nothing else mattered.

"Yes my traitorous love it is poor, pathetic, trusting Erik. Have you come to see the mess I have become? Have you a need to see the poor creature you showed paradise only to snatch it away leaving him in hell? Did not even that poor ball of fur not win your allegiance? Not that you have asked but I will tell you anyway. I gave her away. I could not stand a reminder of you twining about my legs or purring in my ear every night when I knew that not once had you thought of me." He would not tell her how it had hurt to let that one last link to her go. Knowing he would not be able to climb out of his drunken stupor until he could cast out all physical evidence of her he had found the kitten a home with a family with several small children. At least one of them had a loving home with people around who gave a damn if they lived or died.

"Erik why did you not come for me? I waited every night at my window hoping to see you coming for me. I…I began to think you cared nothing for me. I thought you were glad to be rid of me."

"If what you say is true why did you go? Why did you not leave me a note?" Erik could not be this close to her and not touch his lips to her warm flesh. His pride be damned he must touch her with his eager lips. As soft as a butterfly kiss Erik kissed Beatrice on her ear then moved down to her neck. She groaned when she felt the wetness of his tongue flick her eager flesh.

"I…I did not have…have time. Raoul was there. I…I did not want the two of you to fight. I could not very well blurt out that…oh God Erik if you don't stop that I will never be able to finish my…my explanation."

Erik reluctantly did as she asked although he did not release her. He pressed her against him so he could feel every breath she took throughout his own body. His breaths took on the rhythm of hers.

"I wanted to leave a note but with Raoul following me around I had no chance. I thought…I thought that with everything that happened between us you would come. You had to know how I felt. Erik I…I love you. I love you beyond all reason. I cannot live without you. Please say you believe me. If not I shall leave and die a lonely bitter woman."

Erik wanted to believe her. His past made it hard to trust anyone or believe anything good could be his. He was miserable without her. If he sent her away because of stubborn pride he would still be miserable. Miserable and idiotic.

Erik turned Beatrice to face him. He bent to kiss her possessively. His kiss was not gentle or sweet. It was the desperate kiss of a man too long without the one he loved. He was a man who had doubted what his senses had told him to be the truth.

Beatrice kissed him back just as fervently. She held his face between her hands lovingly. Leaning back they looked into one another's eyes. Love reflected back and forth between them.

"You will stay with me. You will marry me. I will not let you go again."

Meg cleared her throat to say, "As lovely as this is I do think we should move this along. Since it took us an extraordinarily long time to get here I daresay Raoul will be on his way here by now. I suggest you take the buggy outside and head for parts unknown."

Beatrice hugged Meg thanking her for everything she had done. She asked her how she planned to get home. Meg shrugged and said she knew of a Vicomte who would be coming by soon. She would catch a ride with him, if he was not too angry with her that is.

Erik told Beatrice he must make a quick trip back into his home. She would not hear of him going without her. Meg thought she would stay where she was and rest. That would give them some privacy.

The reason for Erik's return to his home had been so he could recover the leather valise he had filled with money he had saved over the years. After a few passionate kisses Erik looked one last time at the place he had called home since he was a young boy. This place had been his sanctuary and his prison. He had learned much under this house of music. The greatest gift his opera house had given him had been Beatrice. For her alone he would have held this place in reverence for letting him find her.

Erik and Beatrice returned to Meg to say one last farewell. Beatrice kissed her cheek whispering they would see one another again, she was sure of it. Meg watched them as the buggy entered into the early morning traffic. Soon she could not see them at all. She sighed then sat outside the Rue Scribbe entrance to await Raoul's wrath.

She wasn't worried. Somehow she thought that her mother and Christine would side with her and what man could win against three women banded together in the cause of finding true love?


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

A Time to Heal

It had been over a year since Beatrice had left with Erik. She had become Madame Erik Le Fleur. Erik had walked in a graveyard looking at stones until he found one that felt right. The name on the stone had been Le Fleur. He didn't question why he felt drawn to that particular name. It did not really matter. He would always be who he had always been underneath all the civilized trappings. For Beatrice he kept that other man hidden deep inside. They had gone to Italy to stay until they decided what they would do and where they would go next. His infamy had as yet not spread that far at least not so as to make him a recognizable figure.

Under pressure from Beatrice Erik had submitted several pieces to publishers. They had bought them asking him if he had more. Erik had begun to live out his dream. Composing music the world would actually hear as well as having the love of a woman. He took on a few students to teach music and give singing lessons. Some applicants did not come back after seeing just who would be teaching there children. Enough stayed that Erik could feel proud of his accomplishment. They did not use the funds he had saved from his days at the opera house after he began to earn money.

They did not live lavishly but had all they needed. Beatrice found she was with child only two months after their wedding vows were exchanged. Calculating her cycle she had to conclud that she had been at least a month pregnant the day she and Erik were wed. The wonder of it all was that Erik being quite a virile man she did not get with child within the first few times they came together.

She had been torn as to whether she wished to carry Erik's child even before marriage but God in his wisdom had not given her that choice. Erik himself had been afraid just what a child of his might look like. Poor Erik had such a hard time of it after learning of her condition. He chastised himself for not taking precautions. He berated himself for placing his tainted seed within her womb. Beatrice scolded him for thinking such things evem as she confessed her own misgivings she had experienced during those first days. Before he could feel any hurt at her words she quickly assured him it had not been a case of not wanting his child at all but the matter of how they could protect such a child from ever experiencing even a small part of Erik's own anquish. At last she declared she wanted his child more than almost anything in the world.

Erik fretted every day until his son was safe in his arms. He cried tears of joy to see that perfect little, wrinkled, red faced, and screaming bundle. He told Beatrice he thought a great tenor had been born. When little Erik Raoul Le Fleur was born Erik and Beatrice thought it was now time to think of a permanent home. Beatrice knew where she wanted to live but convincing Erik would take a few womanly wiles.

Beatrice caught Erik in a moment just after making love to tell him of her home in the country only a few miles from Raoul's estate. She told him that it was where she wished to live and raise her children. Erik Raoul's cousins would be close by. Any lingering memory of her life with Lawrence had been overtaken by so many happy days in Erik's arms.

Erik had protested just as she knew he would. She expected many protests from Raoul as well. Expecting opposition Beatrice had written to Christine. Together they had been working behind their husband's backs. Christine had been receiving letters with drafts inside drawn on a bank in Paris. These she deposited as payment for debts against the Tolliver estate. Everything that had been held as collateral by the bank had been signed over free and clear to Madame Le Fleur.

When Beatrice added kisses and loving caresses to her request Erik called her a Jezebel but gave in eagerly to her persuasive attention. Within a few months Raoul and Erik were neighbors. It took a lot of time and patience for the two men to warm to one another. Christine and Beatrice had asked them did either one of them have a regret for who they had married? Would either of them wish to be with someone other than their wives?

The men gave in. There was no use fighting against logic. After all they both had women who adored them and that they loved wholeheartedly, so what was there to protest? Erik had apologized to both Christine and Raoul. It almost choked him to say the words to Raoul but they needed to be said. Beatrice had made it worth his while later in their bedroom.

Raoul and Erik both had scowled darkly when they were informed they were family. Erik got over it pretty quickly as he quite liked the idea of having so many people he could claim as family. All in all they lived contented lives. Erik left the Phantom and Opera Ghost behind. He became not a man known only to the world for greatness but by a few special people who mattered the most called him husband, father, and friend. To Erik that seemed the greatest compliment of all.

**Finis**

**A/N: I thank each and everyone of you who took the time to read my offering and especially those who left reviews or favorited me. My writing has seen me through some very difficult times lately. I thank God for what meager talent I do have. It does give me joy and I hope it does to each and every one of you also. Thank you once again. **


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